


A Stab In The Dark

by Lady_Felucia



Category: Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Genre: F/M, Female Kylo Ren, Gender-Swapping, General Hux - Freeform, Love, Out Of Chatacter, Romance, Star Wars - Freeform, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015) - Freeform, The First Order, supreme leader snoke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8910286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Felucia/pseuds/Lady_Felucia
Summary: A re-imagining of the events after the lightsaber duel of The Force Awakens with Kylo Ren being a female, with the very clever name change of Kyla Ren. Seriously this is my first work, meant to be an amusing little fluff-story; please be kind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place right after the events of The Force Awakens, as Lady Ren attempts to recover from her injuries and deal with the annoying General Hux at the same time.
> 
> Kyla is powerful with the Force, possessing extreme powers and a volatile temper. 
> 
> General Hux is Order and Discipline personified. His calmness under pressure and his logical reactions to everything infuriate Kyla, who would prefer it if everyone reacted to things the way she did; out of control anger and dangerous impulsiveness.
> 
> These two clearly have nothing in common--or do they?

She came back to herself, to her consciousness, bit by bit, slowly, in pieces.

The very worst of the pain had subsided and now only a dull ache remained, causing her discomfort but better than it was when she had first arrived.

She had spent the last few hours in a sort of daze, as the doctors and medical droid worked over her, patching up her ripped-open flesh and administering medicine to her in what seemed like overly large doses. The bag of fluids dripping into her arm seemed ridiculously huge; so did the needle they were sticking into her shoulder. 

"You need a little more medicine than the average person, my dear", said the doctor, an older gentleman with a kind face, white hair and a noticeable accent. "We've found that Force-users tend to burn through pain killers more quickly than others, so we always administer more than normal to ensure that it works."

She was grateful for this explanation, but honestly couldn't remember opening her mouth to ask him this, or any, questions.

She wasn't used to feeling so muddled in her mind, and it scared her a bit. As the medicine took effect, blocking out the pain but intensifying everything else, it was almost like being in a dream. One of those scary dreams where you know something is coming to get you but are unable to scream or run.

She observed with astonishing clarity everything that was happening in room, every word being said, every color, every detail. She was aware of being asked whether she felt like she could take any food, and after nodding yes, a tray had been placed on a little folding stand on her lap.

She was aware of the whirring of the medical droid as it checked over her vitals, murmuring to itself in a mechanical voice.

She was aware of the sounds of people passing in the outside hallways, the clomp of Stormtrooper boots distinguishable from the softer footsteps of regular personnel.

Most of all she was aware of General Hux, sitting in the little black chair to the side of her bed, going back and forth between watching her and typing out messages on his datapad. Any time the doctor came into the room he would ask a series of questions in a professional, clipped-sounding voice, and then would type something into his pad. Most likely sending updates to Supreme Leader Snoke.

Ugh, she thought to herself, wincing. She couldn't wait to get back to base and hear whatever words he was going to have for her.

Now, feeling somewhat normal enough to speak again, breaking out of her fog a little bit, she turned her attention towards the General.

"Why are you still here?"

He glanced up from his datapad, sensing the shift in her demeanor. 

"Apparently, you are in shock. Supreme Leader has -- ordered -- me to stay with you, to monitor you, at least for a little while."

"Monitor?", she practically spat out the word, scowling. I don't need to be 'monitored' and I am NOT in shock."

"Yeah, okay, two things about that. One: people who are in shock rarely KNOW that they're in shock; and Two: Apparently you DO need monitoring. Earlier, a droid came into your room and attempted to take your temperature. Somehow, still asleep, you force-threw that droid into the far door hard enough to shatter both the droid and the door."

She looked over at the door, in disbelief. Sure enough the metal frame was splintered all around the sides, with a large hollow dent right in the middle. She frowned, confused. She didn't remember doing that, asleep or not. 

Rather than answer the General, she kept her mouth closed and turned her attention to the tray that had been placed on her lap. Cut-up Bantha roast, dried toast, vegetables, and a glass of blue milk. 

None of it looked even remotely appealing; however she intuited that if she didn't eat, Hux would start lecturing about that, too. She carefully lifted a fork full of green beans to her mouth, grimacing at how sore her jaw was, how difficult to chew.

She couldn't deny that she had been badly injured. Before Hux had found her, she had been heavily bleeding out of her side from a bowcaster wound, both shoulders had been severely slashed up with a lightsaber, and there was her face. She was afraid to look into a mirror, to see how bad it actually was. The Scavenger's lightsaber had cut a deep diagonal swath from cheek to forehead. She vaguely remembered having Bacta treatments applied to her face, but didn't know the extent to which it had healed the damage.

For a long time the only sound in the room was her slow, methodical chewing, and the continuous click click click of Hux's datapad.

She watched him as she ate. Despite having worked together for nearly 5 years, this was probably the longest amount of time they had spent alone in one room together. 

Their professional relationship was --contentious-- to say the least. They were of completely equal rank; yet she had felt from the beginning, and still felt, that she was better than him. Her Force abilities far outstripped his merits as General of The First Order. And she knew that Snoke felt that this man was an irreplaceable part of their operation. An opinion with which she severely disagreed.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 

She looked over at him, in his full uniform, gloves, boots, greatcoat, hat and all. He was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, eyes still glued to the datapad balanced on his knee. He didn't look at her but was obviously talking to her, as there was no one else in the room.

"Talk about WHAT?", she asked irritably.

"About anything, at all?", he asked in a lilting question, eyes finally leaving his pad and settling on her face.

She didn't know how to answer that. If he was trying to be nice, it was completely out of character for him. At least, she thought it was; to be really honest, here, she didn't know a whole hell of a lot about what kind of person he was outside of a work capacity. Nor did she want to.

Folding her arms across her chest and scowling down at her tray, she snapped "What the fuck do you care, anyway? You know damn well what happened! That Scavenger girl royally kicked my ass and left me half dead in the snow. I underestimated her, and I underestimated FN-2187. Seriously what do you WANT me to say, Hux?! That I fucked up in a dangerous, inexcusable way? That I'm probably going to have my ass handed to me by Snoke once we get back to base? I know all this! I know how badly I screwed up!"

His calm demeanor didn't fade, and his facial expression remained unchanged. It was as if they had just been discussing the weather or something equally mundane. 

"That must be hard for you, to feel like that," he said, still looking directly at her. "But it wasn't entirely your fault, you know. There were several security measures that had been flawed prior to your fight with the girl. Things that could be blamed on any number of people and circumstances."

She felt a mix of feelings rise from the pit of her stomach at his words. In her present groggy and agitated state, it was hard to sort them out. What rose most prominently to the top of her mind, however, was anger. Anger and indignation. 

She hated compassion and she hated sympathy, and that was exactly what the words of this ginger man indicated he felt for her. She didn't see these things as a kindness; rather as an indirect way of him telling her that she was weak, somehow. That he was seeing right past her carefully crafted facade to see that she was more than the ruthless monster that she presented herself as; that she was human, and made mistakes and had regrets like anybody else.

And that maddening calmness he had! She couldn't stand that; she WANTED him to react, to yell back, to tel her that he DID think everything was her fault, that she deserved whatever punishment would be coming her way.

As she often did in moments like this, she lashed out, lacing her voice with accusation and cruelty.

"Well, aren't you something," she said, in a cool, low voice. "So sweet, so kind, so understanding. Tell me something; is Snoke paying you extra to act as a therapist here, or is this all your own idea? Because if it is, congratulations, General, you're far more clever than I would have given you credit for. But let's be honest: we both know that you don't give a shit about me or my feelings. It would have been easier for you to just leave me there, to "find" me only after it was too late to do anything to help me. So why didn't you?", she demanded, knocking the tray to the floor as she attempted to sit up, half eaten food and drink scattering all over the tiles. "Because honestly, if the situation were reversed, I wouldn't have bothered to look in the first place."

Now his face DID change, but it wasn't a look of anger, like she had been expecting, hoping for. It was--weirdly vulnerable. Almost--sad.

And then it disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by his earlier calm expression.

"Well then, Lady Ren, I'm certainly glad that the situation wasn't reversed."

He stood, tucking his datapad under one arm and brushing off his uniform with the other. 

"It seems like you're feeling better now", he said, walking slowly towards the door. "I'll call for someone to clean up the spill."

His hand on the door knob, he turned around to face her one last time. "Get some rest. I'll be back to check on you in the morning."

He left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

In the days that followed, Ren did a whole lot of nothing, while recovering from her injuries. Apparently there was something wrong with the ships hyperdrive, resulting in a journey that was taking twice as long to return to base. 

General Hux came by once a day, usually in the evenings, to "check" on her. After that first volatile conversation he did not try again to talk to her about personal things. The 20 or so minutes sitting in the little chair by her bedside was spent giving her a briefing on all the goings-on back at the military base.

She listened to these reports silently, offering commentary or input when needed but otherwise quiet.

Eventually she was well enough to stand and walk a bit, moving around and around her small room in an attempt to strengthen her weakened leg muscles. 

Other than the General, the only ones to see her since she was admitted to this room was the Doctor, and a variety of medical and cleaning droids. She preferred not to let others see her in this state. Despite her diminutive height and her slender figure, she actually cut quite an intimidating figure around the base, with her black robes, her ever-ready lightsaber and the soulless metal mask.

In fact, other than Supreme Leader Snoke, no one had even seen her real face before. 

The first time Hux had seen it had been that day, after the disastrous lightsaber duel, when he had been sent to retrieve her. He had knelt down beside her in the snow, feeling for a pulse, and then he had lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the rescue shuttle. 

She had been fading in and out of consciousness at the time, not really aware of her surroundings or what was going on.

The one thing she did seem to recall, however, were his thoughts when he looked at her face for the first time since he had met her. He had been thinking that she looked young, very young, much younger than he had expected her to be. And he had been indignant, in his mind, thinking about how all this time he had been sharing a command with this irrational, dangerous Force-user that wasn't even in the same age group as him. It bothered him and confused him at the same time.

She WAS actually around the same age as him, more or less; he being 32 and her being 29. She had always appeared very young, an illusion helped as much by her youthful face as by her shortness. These things were part of the main reason why, whenever she appeared in public, she always wore her voluminous black robes and the mask, equipped with a voice moderator to make herself sound older and deeper-toned than she actually was. Without these things, she doubted anyone, whether on base or her enemies, would take her seriously; this tiny child-faced creature swinging around a lightsaber and destroying people and property in a fit of tantrum. The only things she truly had going in her favor was her impressive Force-abilities and, when she could control herself, her precision and skill with a lightsaber.

She pushed all these thoughts out of her head, now, as the door opened and General Hux walked into the room. She had been mid-pace between her bed and the window, and now turned to face him, frowning at the interruption.

"Oh, you're actually up", he said with a smile, coming into the room and pulling the door securely shut behind him. He had a leather bag in his left hand and his datapad in the other. "I take it you're feeling better, then?"

She nodded before turning and making her way back to her bed, sitting cross legged at the end of it and attempting to finger comb her straggly hair into some kind neatness.

I brought these for you," he said, opening up the bag. First he brought out her beloved black robe, freshly washed and ironed and folded into a neat square, her mask and cowl resting on top, looking the same as always.

She took it, grinning in spite of herself. She had missed this; the hospital clothes she was currently wearing were ill-fitting, and itchy, and far too light-colored for her personal tastes. She was glad to see it in one piece; she honestly couldn't remember whether or not it had been shredded to bits during the fight. She saw the spots on the shoulders and the side where she had been hit; but they had been neatly patched, the stitches so small and even that you could hardly tell that anything had been amiss. 

She wondered why they hadn't just requisitioned her a new robe; it probably would have been a lot less work than it had been to fix this one.

As if reading her mind, Hux said "I figured you were probably pretty attached to this thing, and wouldn't just want a new one so I -- fixed it for you. I know my sewings not the best but--"

"Wait, wait, wait", she cut him off, staring incredulously. "You-YOU fixed this for me? Why?" 

She couldn't wrap her head around it, around why General Hux would not only intuit that she was sentimentally attached to her old robe but take it upon himself to fix it. 

"I just told you why--because I didn't think you'd want a new one."

"Since when do you know how to sew?", she asked, turning the garment around and around and examining the tiny even stitches in a new light.

"Since I was a boy", he said, sitting down in the chair, the tips of his ears and back of his neck growing slightly red with embarrassment. "I had 4 older sisters, growing up. I --learned a lot of helpful things like that."

She couldn't get over how --nice it was of him, to have done this for her. It made her feel weird, and slightly uncomfortable. Rather than saying Thank You, she looked around for a distraction. She noticed he was still holding the bag on his lap.

"What else is in the bag?", she asked, looking at it pointedly.

"Oh!", he exclaimed, jumping a little. "Here," he said, reaching into it gingerly, as if afraid that whatever was in there was going to bite him. He pulled out her lightsaber, being careful to keep his finger away from the button as he held it out to her.

Her heart swelled as she took it, turning it over carefully in her hands, looking for any external damage. She had thought for sure that she had lost this in the aftermath of the battle, and had felt quite depressed over it. Her lightsaber was as much a part of her body as her heart, as part of her aesthetic as her black robes and mask, as much a part of HER as the Force.

She held it out in front of her and ignited it, delighting as she always did in the growling sound, at the look of the jagged red light. 

To the side of her, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how General Hux flinched when she turned it on, although he tried his hardest not to. She was aware of a feeling of trepidation and anxiety coming off of him in slow subtle waves.

She turned it off, smirking to herself at his reaction. She turned to face him, pushing her long black hair out of her face.

"Thank you", she said awkwardly, quickly looking down at the saber in her hands. "This is really nice of you. Especially--what you did with my robe. Thanks."

"It's no problem", he said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he picked up his datapad and began to read to her the daily briefing.

She frowned a little on hearing that they would reach the base in two days time, and upon landing she was to go straight to the Supreme Leader's chambers for "conference". She knew what that meant, all right; scolding and lecturing and an exhausting critical analysis of all that she had done wrong. 

Sighing, she got up off her bed and went to hang her garments up in the small space behind the door, trying to distract her mind from thoughts about the upcoming unpleasantness with Snoke.

Hux must have sensed a change in her attitude because he paused in the middle of his report, tilting his head and watching as she slowly put her things on hangers.

"What's wrong?", he asked, switching off the datapad and setting it on the table.

She kept her back to him, taking longer than necessary to straighten out her robe on the hanger, using the hem of her hospital gown to polish the surface of her mask; any number of little things to keep from turning and letting him see the look on her face.

"Oh, you know", she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just having so much fun on my little vacation here that I hate to think about going back to work."

Clearly she was joking, but he didn't treat it as such. Stretching out and cracking his knuckles, he said "Yes, I know what you mean. It's so nice at this Spa that work seems like it's worlds away."

She turned around to look at him, stuffing her hands into her pockets and leaning against the wall. "What are you going to miss most?", she asked in a mock-cheerful voice. "Personally, I'm really going to miss the gourmet cuisine and the full-body massages."

He grinned before he quipped back "Oh you liked the massages too? They WERE rather relaxing. So was the swimming pool under the waterfall. But what I think I'm going to miss the most is the ballroom dancing every evening."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Ballroom dancing? I must have missed that part."

"Oh then you DID miss out on something spectacular! The music, the lighting, everything was just superb!"

To her amusement he stood up and took off his greatcoat, hanging it over the back of the chair, and began dancing in circles around the room, his arms out in front of him as though holding an invisible partner, humming a classical tune to himself loudly enough for her to hear. He danced right up to her and stopped, holding out his hand. 

"May I?", he asked with a mischievous smirk.

She hesitated for a moment, then held out her hand, allowing him to spin her around the little room, the song he had been humming changing to one with a more upbeat tone.

She laughed out loud, in spite of herself. She noted his strong arms, and how good he smelled. This close she also really noticed his eyes for the first time, a curious blue-green framed with dark orange eyelashes that matched the color of his ginger hair.

She felt--odd, being silly like this. Being as close to someone as this. She had spent the last ten years or so having almost no physical contact with anyone, in any capacity. Normally, the only time she got THIS close to someone was when she was killing them, or fighting.

Thinking about fighting brought the Scavenger girl and FN-2187 to the forefront of her mind, causing her to involuntarily scowl, her muscles tensing up.

The General took this as a sign that she was done "dancing" with him, so he swiftly but gently let go of her, still smiling.

"I think that's enough ballroom dancing for one evening", he said, going to retrieve his greatcoat and his datapad. "I'll go now--I don't want to hold you up for your evening massage. I'll be back tomorrow," he chuckled, turning to leave.

"Hux?", she said, timidly, folding her arms across her chest and biting her lower lip.

"Yes?", he asked, turning his head back to look at her.

"Thanks for -- uh, just thanks.", she said, feeling a blush creep up her neck and stain her cheeks.

"No problem.", he said over his shoulder, walking out and closing the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Kyla stood before the Hologram situated on the giant iron throne, sweating lightly and struggling to control her nerves.

She was standing with her helmet in hands, her head bowed as she listened to the words of the Supreme Leader. 

She was glad that she was not in his actual physical presence; right now all she had to do was keep silent and still and Snoke would take the quiet for paying attention. 

In reality, her mind was wandering a thousand miles a minute, thinking about things which had nothing to do with the admittedly-deserved lecture she was currently receiving.

" . . . and as my apprentice I KNOW that I have given you training beyond what any mere mortal deserves; I am without a doubt that you were more than equipped to defeat the untrained girl and the defective Stormtrooper!"

She winced a little, hunching her shoulders even further but saying nothing.

She knew that what he was saying was true, and that there was no excuse for her completely irrational behavior following that disastrous chain of events on the Tachi base.

She didn't know how to explain, though, just how much emotional upheaval had been skyrocketing through her body after--the thing.

The thing which he should be proud of her for doing, SHOULD BE praising her for. The most difficult thing she had ever done in her life; the one act that was supposed to complete her transformation to the Dark Side.

She had killed her father.

She had been storming around the ship, trying to find the missing girl before she was able to cause any more problems, when He had appeared behind her, calling out the name that she had used in her other life.

He had approached her quite closely on the bridge she had been standing on, speaking to her in that firm gentle tone of his, pleading with her to come home, come back to him and her mother.

The emotions in her head had been spiraling out of control, at that point. She became aware that several StormTroopers had their blasters trained on her father, and that the girl she had been looking for had materialized, also armed with a blaster, on a high platform above her; standing next to the traitorous FN-2187. 

Lastly, although certainly not least important, she became aware of her father's Wookie companion, standing with his bowcaster aimed at Kyla herself, the range of feelings spreading through HIS mind almost as confused as Kyla's.

There had been a time, in that other world, where she had called this hulking, hairy beast 'Uncle Chewie'. When the arms gripping the bowcaster had swung her up on to his shoulders, laughing as she professed that the height allowed her to see the tops of the trees and the homes miles away. When he cried proudly as she sang him Happy Birthday completely in diligently-studied Shyriiwook, gifting him a lopsided 'cake' she had made of honey and leaves. THAT girl was the one who caused him to pause, taking the aim of his weapon from her heart and lowering it to her side.

In the seemingly endless gulf of time in which her father had been standing before her, speaking, she had time to think of a lot of things.

She saw how much older he had gotten, since she had last seen him; his once toned body had faded into the frailty of old age, his former salt and pepper hair having changed to completely snow. The lines on his face were deeply etched, his eyes drowning in a heartbreaking swirl of pain--and loss.

Yes, he knew. He already knew that they had lost her; that the girl whom he had taught to pilot the Millennium Falcon, the girl her mother used to sit with for hours, head in lap, singing and brushing her hair--that girl was gone. Dead. 

He could see that in her eyes, and she could see it in his. They may as well have been two strangers, standing there; two people whom had had a brief and meaningless interaction a lifetime ago.

Still, he felt that he had to try. He felt that, for his long-suffering wife's sake, as well as his own almost-crippling love for his only child, his beloved daughter--he HAD to TRY.

But he knew. He knew it was already too late.

And so did she.

Letting the hatred and anger rise up and take over the long-buried girl that had tried to escape the second she heard that "Beth", she had thrust her lightsaber square into her father's chest.

Before he fell from the bridge, before the screams and the shots that had ensued from her men, the girl and her companions, before the explosion, before the fight, before any of this --

\--the last thing he had done, the last impression that Han Solo, Correlian, Smuggler, General, War Hero, Captain, Rebellion Leader, Husband and Father had left on this world--

\-- had been to touch her face.

She could still feel that touch, even now; FEEL the impression of his fingers caressing her cheek; she could feel that almost as clearly as the scar that she had finally seen emblazoned across her face. Puckered-pink and angry, it stood as a permanent reminder of her failure. 

One in a long, long list of failures.

She pulled herself out of her reverie, now, as she accepted the criticism and scolding from Snoke in earnest.

She DID deserve all the cruel, cutting things he was saying about her, about the disappointment she had caused him, the uncertainty about whether she was as strong as he had originally thought she was, everything.

At the very end of all this, however, he said in that almost-fatherly way of his "However, you did withstand the test I had set out for you, all those years ago. You have killed your father, cementing your place in the Dark Side. As promised, I will now complete your training; and together we shall turn you more powerful than any Sith has ever dreamed.

We shall begin your training when I arrive in a week's time. 

And now, you may go."

She kept her head bowed, nodding, before putting her mask back on and turning to exit the room, trying her hardest to ignore the tears that were sliding hotly and stubbornly down her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Kyla groaned quietly to herself, staring at a little splotch of brown paint on the otherwise white wall, trying her hardest to pay attention.

She hated these meetings. She felt like they were a waste of her time, time that could be spent in extra training, or meditation. 

Snoke was insistent that she be present alongside General Hux as he held these bi-weekly meetings for all the Captains and Officers. 

She didn't know WHY; Hux did most of the talking, while she more or less just sat there and daydreamed for the tedious 2 1/2 hours.

She felt that just receiving the minutes of the meetings would have been more than sufficient in keeping her informed of the activities of The First Order; but apparently Snoke disagreed.

All of the people in the room were sitting rigidly, upright, hands clasped on the table in front of them, a notepad sitting to the elbow of each to copy down any information or suggestions that Hux might have for him or her.

She was lucky that her mask hid her facial expressions; Hux would probably be annoyed if he could see the faces she made at the rather monotonous things he said.

Then again . . . annoying the General WOULD be quite entertaining. For her, at least.

She waited until Hux stopped talking and one of the Captains was giving a report, so that his attention was distracted. 

She started off easy, using the Force to push the pen that was sitting in front of the General off the table, rolling it slowly enough so that it would look like a natural accident.

As he bent to pick it up, she pushed his leather gloves that had been sitting to his right off the table as well, one at a time, struggling to resist the urge to snicker out loud.

Hux placed the pen back on the table, then paused, looking confused as he realized his gloves were now also on the floor. He picked them up and put them back on the table as well, quite a lot farther from the edge as last time.

Captain Anderson finished his report and the spotlight turned on Lieutenant Mitaka, who was giving yet another boring report about "new and improved" StormTrooper training techniques.

About halfway into his speech he began to look uncomfortable, tugging slightly at his collar to loosen it. A few moments after that he was coughing, and then gagging, and then clutching at his throat with both hands, his face slowly turning a delightful shade of pink-purple.

Several people rose up from their seats in a panic, going to the Lieutenant and clapping him hard several times on the back.

General Hux remained seated, and so did Kyla, her arms folded together on top of the table, staring straight ahead under her mask, a smirk playing at her lips.

He said nothing, but Kyla could feel Hux looking at her sideways.

Mitaka recovered from his sudden attack, apologizing that he wasn't feeling too well.

The meeting resumed as normal, General Hux now going over the monthly budget report, reading off his datapad and speaking about different expenses that could be minimized, and how.

Suddenly all the papers, reports. pens, datapads, notebooks and everything else that had been sitting on the table flew off in a large and sudden wave; as if a gigantic invisible arm had shoved it all in a fit of rage.

Most of the people jumped quite high in their seats when this happened, visibly startled. One man even pushed his chair back so hard and so fast that he ended up slamming his head into the wall behind him.

The only person who didn't move, who didn't so much as flinch in one direction or other, was the General.

Now he stood up slowly, turning and looking directly at Kyla as he said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I think that is more than enough for today. You may all retrieve your items from the floor; then you are dismissed."

Everyone scattered around the room looking for the things that belonged to them, leaving once they were gathered up. 

General Hux stood still, unmoving, arms behind his back as he watched until the last person had picked up their things and left. He walked to the door and pulled it closed before turning to face her where she still sat unmoving at the table.

He stood silent for a full minute, as if searching for the words to say. 

Finally he spoke, taking his hands from behind his back and grasping the back of the chair nearest to her, his voice coming out sounding rather clipped and mechanical:

"Lady Ren. I would very much appreciate it in the near future if you would refrain from interfering with my meetings. Is that understood?"

She unclasped her hands and pulled off her helmet, setting it on the table before answering him.

"Is that understood", she mocked in a sing-sing voice. "What are you, my father? I'll do whatever I goddamn well please, General!"

His knuckles on the back of the chair were growing steadily more white, the nails digging painful looking gouges into the leather; yet she forged on.

"And while we're on the subject, Hux; this is not just YOUR meeting. It's mine, too. Snoke said so. So there."

"This is your meeting, too? I never would have guessed. If it weren't for all the black you wear I wouldn't know you were here at all. Do you pay any attention at all when I speak, Kyla? Do you? Do you have even the faintest inkling of what goes on day to day at this base? The challenges we face or the victories we've achieved? Like, okay, I get it; you're one with the Force and have all these incredible powers and you're a dark Lordess of the Sith, I GET all that. But I don't think it would hurt you to start taking a little more of an interest in what's actually happening in front of your face, every single day."

She frowned while listening to his little speech, the words cutting deep and hitting her right in her center.

It was clear that he was very passionate about what he did here, in the First Order, and wanted those around him to feel the same way.

She had not really meant to upset him, this way. She had only been trying to alleviate her boredom; not make a mockery of everything be held important, which is what he misconstrued her inattentive and indifferent behavior to be.

She was not one for feeling bad for others, however; nor was she particularly skilled in issuing apologies for her behavior.

So instead of saying what she should have said, she said what was on her mind instead.

"You know, General, sometimes I think you'd feel a lot better if you just reacted to things once in a while. Like, get mad. Not THIS kind of getting mad, just lecturing someone. Like, get mad how I get mad. Yell. Scream. Break things. Kill a StormTrooper or two."

He stared at her, his grip on the chair loosening a little, the shadow of a grin teasing the corner of his mouth.

"And what would be the point of that, Ren? So that there would be TWO unstable maniacs running around in command of this ship?"

She narrowed her eyes, sneering at him a bit. 

"I am NOT unstable, and I'm definitely not a maniac."

Now he DID smile, shaking his head slightly as he replied "There are a large handful of lightsaber-mark-riddled walls, consoles, furniture, and corpses that may beg to differ with that statement."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," she said, smiling a little herself, glad that she had been able to lighten his mood a bit without having to take the awkward 'I'm sorry' road to do it.

She stood up to go, getting ready to pull her helmet back over her head, when he spoke again, causing her to turn and face him.

"I do agree with you though, Lady Ren; sometimes you DO have to react to your feelings and just do things for the sake of doing them."

"Glad to know we see eye to eye on something, General."

"Indeed. In fact, there's something I want to react to right now."

"Yeah, really?", she said, eyeing him curiously. "That's great! What is it?"

She noticed that his face had taken on a pinkish hue, almost as if he were . . . blushing? Strange.

"If I tell you, do you promise not to like, hit me, or Force-choke me, or anything like that?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, looking at him. 

"Why would I ---", she began; and before she knew what was happening, before her brain could process what he was doing . . . 

He was putting his hands on her shoulders, leaning down and kissing her softly on the lips.

It was like that time in the hospital, when the medicine made her senses go haywire and everything took on a dreamlike hue.

He took his hands off her shoulders and stepped back, a swirl of fear, confusion and contentment emanating from his eyes and spreading all over his face.

She didn't know what to do, standing there. She didn't know what to SAY. She knew he was waiting for her to react in some way but it was as if her brain had frozen solid; all of the pathways of nerves and feelings doused with ice water and rendered obsolete, making it impossible to speak or feel or think.

And then HE was speaking, telling her that he was sorry, he shouldn't have done that, he didn't know what he had been thinking . . .

And then one of the gelid pathways suddenly opened up, one connected not to her brain but to her heart, as if being subjected to a blowtorch.

Without stopping to think she threw herself at him, into his arms, the intensity of her thrust knocking him back into to wall with surprising force.

She rained kisses into his lips, tiny hands plunging into his orange hair, feeling as though something inside of her was breaking and being built at the same time.

And then another pathway thawed out; this one connected to her brain. 

She untangled herself from him, feeling shocked and confused and embarrassed. And angry.

Whether angry at herself or angry at him was mostly unclear; it still, angry.

Without warning, the General suddenly flew through the air and slammed, quite hard, into the opposite wall. He crumpled to the floor in a heap, the look of shock on his face almost comical. He slowly picked himself up, staring at her in disbelief, unable to speak and afraid to make a move in her direction. 

She quickly walked to the table and picked up her helmet, snapping it into place before leaving the room without a single word, an elevated pace carrying her body to her quarters while the rest of her stayed behind in that room, thinking.


	5. Chapter 5

Kyla left the chambers of Supreme Leader Snoke, angry. 

Snoke was not physically present, but his hologram was. It had spent the last hour lecturing her about a recent disastrous mission to Correlia, where she had been sent to retrieve an important map regarding the whereabouts of an enemy tribe of The First Order.

When she and her men had arrived there, she found the local people immediately hostile towards the presence of the First Order, firing weapons and launching a full scale attack on the shuttle before it had even landed properly. 

Judging the situation, she had come to an immediate decision to return fire on the village they had landed in, utilizing the full power of the Order's firepower and quickly decimating the entire area, killing all the villagers in the process. 

She had had her men search in vain for the map among the charred remains of the village, to no avail.

She tried to explain all this to Snoke, but was met with instant fury at how she had failed; how she did not have the right instincts in this situation and should have handled it in a manner that resulted in less destruction and more attainment of the map.

Normally she was able to tune out his exhaustive criticism of her, but this entire week had had her on edge, fraying her temper down to a thin wire, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

She accepted his words in complete silence, speaking only when asked a direct question. She was outwardly calm but inwardly raging.

When it was over, and the hologram faded out, she left the room and burst into the hallway, screaming as she force-kicked the doors open so hard that the ornate crystal windows at the top both shattered, sending colorful shards raining down.

Her shoulders heaved as she embraced the anger that was eating her; a deep seated rage mixed with frustration. 

Several StormTroopers came running when they heard the commotion, but stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw her. Scenes like this one were all too common where Kyla Ren was concerned. Those unfortunate enough to be within her eyesight once the rage took over had learned not to interfere, unless they wanted to know what death tasted like.

Ignoring her gathering audience, she ripped her lightsaber from her belt, igniting it and launching an immediate attack on the walls and outer doors of the hall. Splinters of wood and slivers of metal ricocheted off the saber, making satisfying clinking noises as they hit the ground.

" . . . so childish, destroying things like that . . . "

She whirled mid-slash, staring at the small group of Troopers standing midway down the hall, trying to discern the one whose thoughts had leapt out at her with that unpleasant sentiment.

She routed out the guilty party immediately, noticing the way all 8 men backed away from her advancing form, panic leaping like wildfire from one person to the next.

She approached the one Trooper and stretched out her arm, causing him to rise into the air and dangle there while she casually paced around him.

"You think I'm childish, do you?", she asked in a soft, almost calm voice. Not that he could answer her; she was slowly cutting off his air supply, applying the pressure of invisible fingers to his neck in increasingly hard increments.

"I'm thankful for your evaluation. It's so often that those who are in a position of authority don't stop to really hear what their subordinates think of them; or ways to improve themselves."

The sounds of his choking and struggling for breath were becoming softer, more subdued, as the inevitable end neared.

"I'll tell you what, let's compromise. I'll try to be less 'childish' if you agree to be a little quieter; I have a dreadful headache. Agreed?"

She dropped him, stepping back a little as his body thudded to the floor.

"I guess he agrees", she said, stepping over his body and continuing down the hall.

"Kyla!"

She heard the loud voice, sighing but refusing to turn around, or slow her pace. She knew who it was. 

She had been avoiding him for almost 2 weeks now, ever since the . . . incident. 

During the day she avoided the areas of the ship where she knew he would be, and at meetings she sat as far away from him as possible, never entering the room unless at least one other person was present and being one of the first to leave when it was over.

She knew that she was being a coward, and she despised herself for that. 

But she didn't feel ready, yet, to talk about what had happened, and the implications behind both of their actions. 

Now she could hear him behind her, quickening his pace, so she quickened hers as well, not really in the mood to talk to him. Or anybody.

As fast as she moved, he was faster, aided by his long legs. 

He outstripped her and then stepped directly in front of her, blocking her path, forcing her to stop.

"What. Do. You. Want?" She snarled, practically spitting out the words.

"In my office. Now.", he said in a surprisingly forceful voice.

She blinked, a little surprised. She had never heard him speak this way before, at least not to her, and she was thrown off her guard a little.

Nevertheless she tried to ignore his tone and walk past him, saying "Get out of my way" in a cold, deadly voice.

He moved in front of her again, cutting off he retreat. "I said. Get. In. My. Office. NOW.", he repeated himself, folding his arms and refusing to move.

She was aware that quite a few people were now in the hallway, staring open-mouthed at this confrontation.

Nobody had ever seen anyone speak in such a way to Lady Ren; quite frankly, nobody else would have DARED to. 

Nor had they ever seen these two commanders engage in such an aggressive public display like this one.

She could hear several Captains debating among themselves whether to come over and diffuse the situation, or move the two apart from one another before it escalated any further.

Several people were waiting with bated breath for her lightsaber to make its appearance, already calculating how many people it was going to take to bring the General to the Med Bay . . . or the morgue.

For a moment, a split second of time, she DID consider drawing out her saber and cutting him down. 

What stopped her was his voice, speaking in a decidedly gentler tone, low enough so that nobody else around them heard it, one word: "Please."

Sighing, she turned and walked beside him to his office, aware of everyone that had been watching scrambling to look like they were preoccupied with other things.

He pulled open the door, indicating with his head for her to enter first, before walking in and shutting the door behind him. 

To her surprise, he came up to her and removed her helmet himself, pulling it off carefully and setting it on his desk. Then he sat down on his desk beside it, arms clasped in his lap, looking at her still standing by the door.

She glowered at him but said nothing, arms folded across her chest, waiting for him to speak. 

What he said seemed so out of place that it took her by surprise for a moment, confused.

"When I first came here, to the First Order, I told my father that I had been made General. Do you know what the first words out of his mouth were? Not 'congratulations', or 'good job' or any of those paltry euphemisms. It was "You? You're as thin as a slip of paper, and about as useless. How do you intend to lead an army as large as Supreme Leader Snoke's?"

He smiled to himself, absently rubbing the back of his neck.

"Those were actually rather kind words, coming from him. "

"In the year that followed I did everything humanly and inhumanly possible to prove him wrong. I started going to the gym at night, after my daytime duties were over. And I worked out. I worked out until I was sweating and bruised and sore and ready to fall apart. I worked out until my vision blurred and my thoughts fell apart. I worked out until I forgot my own name."

"I managed to add 10 pounds of muscle to my body, during that year. And I've worked fairly hard to maintain that ever since. All to change one of my father's many, many negative opinions on me."

Now his voice got lower, a bit husky, as he gruffly cleared his throat before continuing.

"I saw him again, about a year ago. You weren't here for that; I believe you were on a mission to Jakku at the time. Anyway I took him on a tour of the base, he sat in on several drills that I oversaw, he was a guest at one of our meetings."

"And the entire time, literally the entire time he was there, I waited for him to notice the physical change in me. To see that I was no longer that skinny, useless boy."

"Before he left, do you know what he said?", he asked, smiling bitterly. He said "You need to work on communicating better with your subordinates, son; you don't do very well at getting your point across to people." 

"And he left. I haven't seen or even spoken to him since."

Now he stood, pacing in circles around his desk, while Kyla watched.

"I think . . . maybe he was right about that, too. Or half right, anyway. I feel that when I'm giving orders, I make my point known, and I do it well. But when it comes to personal relations, I find it hard to 'communicate'."

"Sometimes --- sometimes I find it easier, in my personal life, to just say or DO things the way I want to, and worry about the consequences later. Sometimes --- taking that approach is the ONLY way I get things accomplished."

Now he stopped pacing and came to stand in front of her, his eyes locking on hers and boring holes into her soul.

"Kyla. I am so sorry, so very very sorry, that I kissed you like that, that day. I was acting on feelings that had been building up for a long time, without stopping to consider that my actions might hurt you, or bother you, or possibly disgust you."

"My actions were reprehensible and completely inexcusable. And I'm sorry. I can't express how sorry I am."

"But I couldn't continue to call myself a man if I didn't come straight out and tell you, to your face, that I have feelings for you. Strong ones. I have for quite some time."

"I don't have your ability to read minds, but I wish I did. Because I have no idea what you could possibly be thinking right now, and to be perfectly honest, I'm terrified to ask."

She bit her lower lip and looked at the floor, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. She didn't think that there were enough minutes in this lifetime to process the things he was saying, much less how she felt about them.

She looked up, noticing how scared he looked, how uncertain, how vulnerable. Cringing, almost, like a dog that's waiting for you to kick it.

"I -- killed one of the StormTroopers in the hallway. I held him in the air and choked him out."

He looked at her, confused as to what her point was in saying this.

"He's not the only one; but you know that. You know how many men I've plowed through on this base, swatting down lives as if they were flies."

"I murdered my father, too. I plunged my saber into his heart and shoved him off a bridge. I've killed younglings. I've killed padawans. I've massacred entire villages without pause and without remorse."

She looked him in his eyes as she continued. "I have a volatile temper, when I'm upset about something, when I'm angry, I'm no longer in control of my mind or my body. I'm sloppy, I'm unorganized, I'm extremely selfish, and I'm childish."

"I'm a monster, a monster of the worst kind. A monster by all accounts including my own."

"I should have stabbed myself, after I stabbed my father. Fell off the bridge and joined him in hell, where a foul being like me belongs."

She looked back at the floor, alarmed when she realized how close tears were to her eyes. She forced the feeling away, continuing.

"The worst thing, though, is that I'm not only ugly on the inside; now it's spread to outside, too," she said, raising her hand to touch the scar that brandished her face.

To her surprise, he timidly put out his own hand and traced gently along her scar, his other hand smoothing back her hair. 

"I don't think you're ugly. I think -- I think you're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life."

Everything became too much, far too much, for her to handle, and she started to cry for real this time, embarrassed, hunching into a ball and burying her face in her hands, helplessly letting the tears wrack her small body.

And he sat down beside her, circling his arms around her heaving shoulders, and held her close to him.

She didn't know how much time was passing; all she knew was that eventually her sobs eased down into nothing, her body quietly calming itself after its flood of emotions.

When she was calm enough to be aware of her surroundings again, the first thing she noticed was his arms, still closed around her.

Without hesitating, without stopping to let her worries and her doubts catch up to her, she leaned up into his face and kissed him before settling back into his arms.

It felt -- odd. Odd, but good, remarkably good, to be held like this. To be SEEN like this; seen without the mask, seen at her worst moment, her most vulnerable--by someone who didn't care about any of her flaws, any of her imperfections.

To be honest, she still didn't see what the attraction was, on his end -- but she also found that she just didn't care anymore.

She didn't know what to call this, this feeling that existed between the two of them; didn't know what label, if any, to assign to the complexities of the situation.

She knew that if they were to make a serious "go" of this, of a possible . . . relationship, it would be met with disbelief and criticism from all sides. The StormTroopers, the Guards, The Officers, the base personal, Snoke; EVERYBODY would be questioning the sanity of the two of them.

And again, she just didn't care.

Plenty of time to figure that all out later. 

Right now, it was enough to just sit here together, quietly, leaning into one another; enough to appreciate the presence of the other person.


	6. Chapter 6

"So what is it that you'd like to talk about today?"

Kyla fidgeted in her seat, saying nothing. She didn't know why she was here; she didn't know how she had allowed herself to agree to this ridiculous situation.

Hux sat next to her, looking remarkably different in the casual clothes he was wearing. 

He had forgone his usual uniform in order to "blend in" with the fabric of this obscure little town, trading in his greatcoat and boots for a plain white collared shirt, khaki slacks and lightweight shoes.

He looked good, she thought to herself. Although, really, she didn't feel at all like the lack of professional clothes hid the things he did for a living.

Some men need a crown to let it be known that he is a King.

Hux, did not.

His walk, his talk, his attitude all conveyed the type of strong, forceful person he was. 

Everything about him screamed "Leader"; from the way he looked at people to the way he sat in his chair. He carried the weight of the army in his eyes.

And Kyla was grateful for this; right now, she needed someone to be strong FOR her so she could get through this.

They had been seeing each other, officially, for a little over two months. Right now it was at what she would call the "casual" stage. They spent a great deal of time in one another's quarters; and occasionally took day trips off-base under the guise of "going on a mission."

As far as she knew, nobody on base knew that they were in a relationship. They were extremely cautious and careful about when they met up, and where; showing no outward signs of personal affection around other people. 

Supreme Leader Snoke knew, of course. 

She knew that he would have sensed it even if they hadn't told him; that he would have routed it out from one or both of their minds, and that would have been disastrous.

So they went, together, to tell him.

That had been . . . awkward, but not awful, as she had feared it would be.

Snoke had more or less given them his "blessing" on the whole situation, with the stern warning that it not interfere with their First Order responsibilities.

Which it hadn't, not in the least.

In fact, the moods of both of them vastly improved due to their newfound romantic partnership with one another.

The change in Kyla was particularly remarkable. 

She was calmer, quieter, more peaceful than she had been in a long time. She found it easier to control her temper and to put her energy into productive outlets rather than destructive ones.

The General still commanded his subordinates with the same amount of vigor and firmness that he always had; the only difference was that now he actually SMILED now and again, and was infinitely more easy-going about certain things than he had been in the past.

This is not to say that there were no more bad days for one or both of them ever again. There was still the occasional StormTrooper left in a choking heap on the floor; the occasional meeting where there was more yelling than actual talking.

But those incidents, for both of them, were getting further and farther in-between.

Being with each other had brought out the "human" in both of them, and each appreciated that change in their own way.

But the past two weeks or so had been difficult for Kyla. Despite how happy she felt being with Hux, she found more often than not that her mood had taken on a sad undertone.

More and more she found herself thinking of her family, and wondering why she was doing so. Her thoughts centered especially around her Father, and the more she thought about --that--circumstance, the worse she felt.

Hux noticed that something was bothering her, and tried his hardest to coax out of her what the problem was, so that he could fix it.

At first she was reluctant to talk about what was bothering her, but eventually his gentle pleadings got it out of her and he decided to take action.

Kyla was a person who more or less subscribed to the philosophy that if you ignore something enough, it'll eventually go away on its own.

Hux was the type of person who believed that if you have a problem, you should tackle it right away, head-on, and destroy it before it becomes any bigger.

He decided the way to tackle HER problem would be to have her talk to a therapist of some kind, to help her deal with her negative feelings surrounding her family.

She had balked at this idea, going so far as to say that he would have to drag her out by the hair to get her to go to a therapist.

He had kissed her, instead, and kept on kissing her while explaining why he thought it would be a good idea, how she needed some kind of relief that he couldn't give her, etc etc until eventually she caved in and agreed to go.

He went out of his way to find a therapist far enough away from the base so that no one would know where they were going.

He also sent an official First-Order directive to that person regarding the work-related nature of The First Order and all its operatives, putting in painstaking detail how Murder was going to be the main area topic of discussion concerning the intended patient . . . and also throwing in a sly but very clear affirmation that anyone who did not keep the disclosures of the persons being treated completely confidential would "face severe repercussions from Supreme Leader Snoke and The First Order."

Basically a way of saying "Your next patient has killed a lot of people but don't bother calling the authorities over this, or you'll end up dead before you can pick up a transmitter device."

Hux told her all this, to try and reassure her into going.

Kyla tried to resign herself to this, telling herself that maybe once she talked about the things bothering her, she would feel better, and could get back to enjoying her life with Hux.

She was able to get off the shuttle and into the building relatively easily; but as soon as they were admitted into the room and introductions were made, she found she had nothing to say, feeling frozen and tongue-tied.

She looked to Hux for help.

He took her hand and squeezed it, holding it tightly while answering for her, 

"Kyla has been feeling poorly lately, oftentimes very withdrawn and depressed. I'm worried that she might be experiencing late-stage guilt over the death of her father, and thought that maybe it would benefit her to talk to a professional about it."

Kyla marveled at how calmly he spoke, how elegantly he worded their reason for being there. 

She probably would have just said something like "I stabbed my dad and then threw him off a bridge, and at first I was glad I did this but now I'm feeling like shit and I'm not sure why."

The therapist, a Doctor Zviam, nodded.

"That's certainly something we can explore, but for now I want to talk a little about you; is that alright?", she asked, looking at Kyla.

"Yes", she said nervously.

"Okay so I see by my chart here that you're 29 years old?"

"Yes."

"Would you say that you're in good physical health?"

"I guess so . . . yes?"

"How are your eating habits?"

"I pretty much eat two times a day, mornings and evenings. I'd like to say I eat mostly healthy things but, honestly, there's a lot of junk and a lot of candy in my diet.", she said, smiling a little to herself.

"What about sleeping?"

"I sleep okay, I guess. I usually go to bed before midnight and I sleep until 8 or so."

"I also see here that you are a Force-user?"

"I am."

"That's impressive. Nobody in my family has any kind of Force-sensitivity, so I don't have any personal experience with it, but I've studied it."

"Consider yourself lucky, Doctor," said Kyla, sitting up straighter and now looking directly at her for the first time. "Anytime you have something special, some hidden talent to yourself, KEEP IT HIDDEN. Bringing things out into the open just causes nothing but pain."

"Do you wish that you had kept your Force sensitivity a secret?"

Kyla sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sometimes. Sometimes I feel angry that I can do the things I do. Sometimes I wonder why I couldn't have just been normal, like everybody else."

She paused, thinking.

"Well not like EVERYBODY; I guess. I mean, almost everyone in my own family was a damn freak like me, so I guess there was no way I was going to escape this anyhow."

"Can other members of your family use the Force?"

"I can, and my Uncle Luke can. My mother has a great deal of Force-sensitivity but was never trained to use or utilize her powers, so she can't "use" the Force like we can. My mother's dad, my grandpa, was an extraordinarily powerful Force user. I think the only one in my immediate family who couldn't use the Force is . . . WAS, my father."

"How did he relate to the rest of the family, concerning that?"

"I don't know, really. I mean he was never like, angry or anything that he wasn't Force-sensitive. He was a pilot and a smuggler; a damn good one, too. He is . . . was, one of those people who are very hands-on with everything, very direct, very straight forward. He preferred to deal with things that he could see or touch. But the Force, to him, was a little like magic. I think it made him uncomfortable, sometimes, to be around people who had all these freaky weird powers that he had no understanding of."

"Do you think he was uncomfortable around you, as well?"

She shrugged, folding her arms over her chest. 

"I don't know. Sometimes I think he was; sometimes I think he didn't really care about what I could do. I don't mean that in a bad way; I mean he didn't care as in, it didn't bother him. That I was still his kid, even if he didn't "get" how like, I could pick up the couch and move it across the room without ever having to touch it."

"Would you say that you were close to him?"

She looked at the floor, biting her lip and thinking carefully about her answer, before speaking again.

"When I was younger, yes. Sometimes. He was gone a lot; the nature of his business would take him away from me and my mother for long stretches of time."

"But when he WAS home, we spent a lot of time together. He taught me how to fly his ship, he taught me how to fish, he taught me how to play cards, and other stuff too."

"He sounds like a very interesting person."

"He is ; er, was."

"I notice you've said "is" instead of "was" quite a few times regarding your father. Any particular reason why you think that is?"

"I guess --I don't know. I suppose I have a hard time believing that he's really dead."

"Would you say that his death was hard on you?"

Without missing a beat, Kyla quipped "Well I guess you could say that; after all I'm the one who killed him."

If the therapist was surprised by that statement, she didn't show it. Probably because she already knew that, from the documents the General had sent over regarding this patient.

She continued with her next question "Why do you think you did that?"

Kyla sighed, closing her eyes as she spoke. "It has a lot to do with the Force, actually; light side/ dark side stuff that you wouldn't, couldn't understand. But I guess if you wanted very basic reasoning; it'd be this: my father was part of my other life. I've made a commitment to this life. In order to fully leave that other life behind I had to destroy the things most important to me from that other one. My father happened to be in the right place at the wrong time, wrong for him anyway. Simple."

She stood up abruptly, nearly tipping over her chair in the process. "I really don't want to talk anymore today. Is that alright? Can we go now?", she asked, looking at Hux.

"Of course", he says, standing to shake the Dr.'s hand. "Thank you very much for seeing us, ma'am. We'll be back again next week."

Kyla groaned, hearing that. Next week? Really? Ugh.

"I feel we've made some good progress today, Kyla," the Dr. said, smiling. "You know half of the battle in my line of work is getting people to open up and speak at all, about anything."

"I'm sure we'll find much more to talk about next week."

Kyla nodded, then turns and walked out of the room, moving so quickly that Hux had to run a little to catch up.

"What's wrong?", he asked, worried.

"Nothing", she said, slowing her pace a little now that they were a distant away from the office. "I just -- didn't want to talk anymore, that's all."

"Do you feel better, like even a little bit, getting some of your feelings out?"

"I do", she says, nodding. "It's just that I have limits, you know? And I felt I was reaching my limit in there, talking."

"It's okay, we all have limits," he said, grasping her hand and holding it all the way back to the shuttle 

When they got on board, Hux turned to her, asking "Do you want to go out and eat somewhere, before we go back to the base?"

"Sure; that sounds great. I don't think I've been out to eat since I was a teenager."

"Then you're long overdue for the best gourmet Bantha burgers in the galaxy!" he said with a smile, as he punched the coordinates into the ship and they took off, leaving the stress of the day temporarily behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

She felt a little apprehensive about this meeting.

Snoke had summoned her and the General off the field with "urgent information" to convey to them.

She couldn't imagine what would be so "urgent" that it couldn't have waited until the end of the day, or that it required both of them to be present.

Oh, wait, maybe THAT'S it, she thought to herself. Snoke always knows everything that's going on; he probably knows that Hux and I kissed in view of a few StormTroopers the other day. He probably said that the message was urgent so that we would both come to him right away, so he could lecture us both about how serious it is to "display professional behavior" at work.

Ugh.

As they walked into the chamber and bowed before the Supreme Leader, however, she could sense right away that something more serious was about to be said, here.

She felt scared, and wanted very badly to reach out and take Hux's hand, but she didn't dare to do so in Snoke's presence.

Instead she stood rigidly by his side, waiting for the Supreme Leader to speak.

"Lady Ren, General; as you know, yesterday our operatives encountered a rebel ship heading towards Yavin. You know that they were unable to capture the ship outright but had managed to place a tracking device on board."

Now he paused, seeming weirdly hesitant.

"They tracked the ship to its base early this morning. There was a battle, and many of their operatives were killed in the fight. Many from ours were defeated as well."

"Lady Ren . . . General Leia Organa was among the people of this base. She . . . perished in a cross-fire. Our men positively identified her body, to be sure it was her, and sent word back to me, and --"

But Kyla heard nothing else after that. She didn't hear or see or feel anything for quite a long, long time.

The next thing she remembered was waking up, slowly, in the dark. She wasn't sure where she was; this didn't feel like her bed. 

There was a heavy blanket on her of some kind, a heavy silk that was much softer and finer than her own rough blanket.

She tried to turn her head to look around, but found that she couldn't do it very well. Even the slightest movement brought about a dreadful ache.

Everything felt heavy, and thick, as if the very air was pressing down on her chest like a vice, suffocating her. 

This must be what it feels like when I Force-choke people, she thought to herself.

Summoning her strength, she slowing raised herself up into a sitting position, looking around.

It was hard to tell in the blackness of the air, but she thought she was in Hux's room.

As if to confirm this, a second later she heard a soft snore, coming out of the dark, somewhere quite close to her. 

Squinting her eyes, she could now make out a shape sitting in a chair by the bed, to the left of her, hunched over and lightly dozing.

Clearing her throat, she finally spoke out loud, "Hux?"

He woke up almost immediately, jumping out of the chair and switching on a lap sitting on the bedside table before coming over to her.

She flinched a little at the suddenly bright light, shading her eyes with her hand, trying to adjust.

When she could focus, the first thing she saw was the Generals face. For a moment, she was shocked. He looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks haggard, like he hadn't slept or eaten a decent meal in days. His hair was an unkempt orange mess, the flames sticking up in sporadic drifts all over his head.

"What -- where --what?", she stuttered out, hoping he understood her convoluted question.

"Are you okay?", he demanded, putting his hand gently on her forehead and smoothing back her sweat-matted hair.

"What happened?", she asked, feeling confused.

Reaching to grab her hand, he began to speak gently.

"We were in Snoke's chambers, he told you that --your mother died. You fainted, you fell and hit your head quite hard on the marble floor. Snoke had two of his guards carry you to a private Med Bay room where they bandaged you up, but they said you'd be out of it for a while."

"How long has it been?", she asked, scared at how she didn't remember any of this.

"It's been 3 days, Kyla."

"Three . . . days?", she asked, stunned. "Have I been here the whole time?"

"No. I wanted to bring you here sooner so I could watch over you, but they wouldn't let me take you until you were stable enough. I just brought you here this afternoon. They --said you'd wake up when you were ready."

So many thoughts were crashing into each other in her mind that she didn't know which to explore first.

"My -- mother died?"

He squeezed her hand even tighter.

"Yes, honey; I'm so sorry, but yes."

She turned her head away, expecting to feel tears, or to start screaming, or something, anything. But nothing happened. 

All she felt was numbness.

Now she turned back to look at him. "Have you been sleeping? You look like shit, Hux."

He laughed a little bit. "Who needs sleep?", he asked in a slightly shaky voice. "I just . . . I couldn't sleep not knowing whether you were going to be okay."

"What about eating?", she asked, frowning a little, worried. He really didn't look okay; he looked like he was hurting over this whole thing worse than she was, if that were even possible.

"I think I had a Coffee this morning."

"Oh my God, what the fuck, Hux?! Are you trying to make me mad, here?", she asked, abruptly kicking the covers off and attempting to get up.

"Whoa whoa wait! What are you doing?", he exclaimed as he scrambled to settle the covers back around her.

She pushed his hands away and struggled to get up. "I've got to make you something to eat, Hux. First you look like shit and now you're telling me you haven't eaten in 3 days! I can't let you ruin your health over me!"

He firmly pushed her back into the bed. "No no please, stay there. I'll make something to eat right now, I'll make us both something; just please stay in bed and rest a little for me, please?"

"Fine," she pouted, still feeling worried about Hux's physical state. She idly wondered if she was strong enough right now to use the Force to lift him off the floor, if he happened to pass out or anything. 

She hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

A few minutes later he returned, carrying a tray that he placed over her lap. It held two cold cut braised-nerf sandwiches, two glasses of blue milk, and a bowl of frag snack chips.

He started to pull up the chair to her side, when she asked "What are you doing?"

He paused, looking up shyly. "Well I wasn't sure if you'd feel comfortable with me being in bed with you, yet, I mean . . . " he trailed off.

She rolled her eyes, smiling a little at his old fashioned chivalry. "It's YOUR bed, you nerf-herder."

"Still."

"If you don't get into this bed with me right now, I'll -- Ill get up and start doing cartwheels or something! Watch me!", she said, pretending like she was going to get up.

He laughed for real this time, walking around to the other side and crawling into the big bed with her. 

She moved the tray off of her lap and placed it over his, saying "And you better eat every bite of that sandwich, General Hux."

"Same goes to you, Lady Ren", he said, still grinning, as he took a big bite of sandwich.

She did the same, although frankly she wasn't really hungry. But she wanted to make sure Hux ate, and she knew he wouldn't if she didn't. 

"So -- is Snoke very annoyed with me, yet?"

"Surprisingly, no. I think --I think he actually felt bad for you, a little. Or maybe bad isn't the right word, maybe "sympathetic" is more accurate."

She frowned, thinking about that. It was unlike him to feel any kind of sympathy for anyone, regardless of the situation. She had been around him since she was a teenager, and knew this to be true first-hand. She wondered what he was REALLY thinking.

But that could wait for another time.

Right now she was more concerned with Hux.

He WAS starting to look a little better, after eating some. The color in his face was already improving.

Still, he needed a good night's rest to complete the transformation. And she intended to see that he got it.

They finished the food and he picked up the tray, taking it back into the kitchen. She could hear the sound of him washing up the plates, and she thought to herself, This would be kind of nice, maybe, someday. If we lived together. Really nice. Really -- domestic.

He came back into the room, opening his closet and pulling out what looked like a blanket. 

"What's the blanket for?", she asked curiously.

"Well, I was gonna make up the couch for me to sleep on, and --" he trailed off under her intensifying glare.

"Didn't we just have this discussion like 5 seconds ago? For God sake, this is YOUR bed. If you really don't feel comfortable sleeping with me, or next to me or whatever, then /I/ can sleep on the damn couch."

"No no it's not that I don't want to sleep, uh, with you, next to you, uh I mean, it's just --"

He was blushing furiously now, looking at the floor and mumbling his words.

"It's just WHAT?!", she demanded.

"I've never uh, you know --same bed, a girl, uh --you know--?"

She blinked, stunned, as she put together the meaning of what he was saying.

"Oh.", she said, in a surprised voice. "So you've never--been, with a girl, like that, ever?"

His face now almost matched his hair as he muttered out a soft "No."

She let out her breath in an uneven rush. 

"Well, two things, Hux. One, I've never -- you know, /that/, either. And Two, I'm not talking about /that/ right now; I'm talking about actually SLEEPING with each other. SLEEPING."

Now he looked up at her, a tentative smile on his face. "You're sure?"

She groaned loudly in exaggeration. "Yes, you idiot. Now come on!", she ordered, patting the place on the bed beside her.

"Yes, ma'am", he said, snapping her a salute before crawling in beside her. "Do you want to watch a Holofilm or something?"

"Sure", she said, as he reached for the controller and turned on the projector.

"Here's a horror holo; do you like horror ones?"

"Of course", she said. "But you know to me they're more like comedies.

He laughed lightly as he started up the film, settling back against the pillows. "Yeah I can see your point there; but still, they're fun to watch."

"Agreed, General.", she said, as she pulled the covers up tighter around them both and laid her head on Hux's shoulder, feeling the slow quiet rhythm of his breathing in and out.

About halfway through the film, she became aware of his breathing having taken on a deeper, more relaxed pace, and realized he was sleeping.

Very gently, so as not to wake him, she leaned up over him and grabbed the controller, clicking off the film and setting the remote on the table.

Before turning off the light, she looked at his face for a long time, so peaceful in its dreaming.

You are mine, she thought to herself. You are mine, and I am yours. No one will ever hurt you while I'm near, and no one will take you from me. Where you go, I go. If you died, I would die with you. Only please don't die, not ever, because I can't imagine a universe without you in it.

Very softly, she pressed a kiss into his full lips, murmuring "I love you, Hux", into his ear. 

She turned off the light and laid her head once more on his chest, one arm around him, drifting off into the quiet space of sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

"If you don't stop that, you're going to go bald", Kyla said, teasingly.

She was watching as Hux wound his finger around and around a single lock of stray orange hair, tugging it absently as he scrolled through messages on his datapad.

They were sitting in an empty conference room, about an hour after holding one of the weekly meetings. He had stayed behind to work on paperwork and peruse his important datapad messages. 

She was trying to be helpful by planning/outlining the topics for the next meetings, but wasn't having much success with it. After a while she just gave up and let her mind wander, watching Hux do his thing.

Now he looked up at her and smiled, taking his hand away from his head and setting his datapad on the table.

"Well, maybe if I had something else to occupy my hands. . . ", he said, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner and patting his lap.

She rolled her eyes and came to stand in front of him, folding her arms and smirking.

"That hardly seems like appropriate workplace behavior, Sir."

"I won't tell, if you don't," he said, grinning.

"I don't know . . . ", she said teasingly, pretending like she was going to turn away.

"Please?", he asked, his blue-green eyes giving her the puppy dog stare that made her knees melt.

"Very well, General", she said, plopping down lightly in his lap and swinging her legs so that they were straddling his hips. "You have me; now what are you going to DO with me?"

He answered by grabbing her lips in a passionate kiss, twining his hands in her wavy black hair and nibbling at her bottom lip.

She sighed happily, returning his intensity and moving to pull herself closer into his body.

"Oh!", she exclaimed, a split second before the chair supporting them suddenly tilted backwards, coming within inches of the floor. She just barely had time to reach out with the Force, grabbing the chair before it hit the ground and slowly tilting it upright again.

Hux laughed out loud, startled. "Good thing your reflexes are so quick, or we'd both have smashed-up heads right now."

She smiled, pressing a final quick kiss to his lips before climbing off of him and standing up once more. "My head is already all "smashed-up"; but I'd hate to see anything happen to /yours/."

"Thank you, love.", he smiled, picking up his datapad again and going back to his messages.

Clearing her throat, she said "Speaking of smashed up heads, though . . . are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or what?"

"What do you mean?", he asked cautiously, eyebrows knitting together as he looked up at her.

"Something is bothering you, Hux. I can tell. Your mind is all, um, I don't know what the word is . . . muddy? Yes, I think that's it: muddy. Like . . . you're worried about something, or scared, I can't really tell, exactly, just that /something/ is wrong."

Hux frowned a little, rubbing his temple with his thumb and forefinger before answering.

"I always forget that you can pick up on stuff like that", he said in a low voice.

"I'm sorry", she said, feeling guilty. I don't--I'm not trying to pry around in your head. Or invade your privacy, or anything like that. It's just--I can't help picking up on things and --"

"No, no, I'm not accusing you of anything like that", he said, standing up and coming over to her, wrapping her into a tight hug. "I'm just--I'm not used to being 'open' with people, on a personal level. Something I have to work on now, huh?", he said, grinning.

She shook her head lightly. "Don't change the subject, General. If it's something I can maybe help you with, I want to help. This--", she said, gesturing to the both of them, "--this is a partnership."

He smiled a little, touching her face. "I like the sound of that. And you're right, this IS something I would like your help with--but I'm afraid to ask you."

She scowled up at him, putting her hands on her hips. "You know I can like, dangle you upside down in the air until you tell me, right? Do you think I won't?"

He laughed, holding out his hands defensively. "No, no, I believe you."

"Okay. The thing is, you know I'm scheduled to go on vacation in about a week, right?"

She nodded.

"Well, I'll have about 10 days off. I was -- thinking of going home. To --my father's house. My oldest sister's been sending me messages that he's not doing so well lately, and I thought maybe I should go and see him, you know, in case maybe --", he trailed off, licking his lips.

She nodded again, to show that she understood what he was getting at.

"If--", he said, looking at the floor, "If I can clear it with Snoke for you to have that time off, as well; I was hoping you'd--come with me."

"You want me--to meet your family?", she asked in disbelief. "WHY? Wait, no, I don't mean that in the way you're thinking. I mean, why would you want anyone to meet ME?"

"Why?", he asked, looking at her confusedly. "Why NOT? You're smart, you're funny, you're talented, and did I mention, absolutely gorgeous?"

She blushed, looking down at the floor. "I think you may be in need of glasses, General. You're not seeing things very clearly."

He chuckled, putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her face up, looking into her eyes. "If anyone needs glasses here, it's /you/, Lady Ren", he said, kissing her softly.

"And anyway," he said as he pulled away, "I have to admit that my reasons are also a bit selfish. I'd like you there for me, for moral support. You know I -- haven't always gotten along with my father. Okay that's a lie; I've NEVER gotten along with my father."

"I'd like you there because -- when I'm with you, I feel like I'm calm. I feel happy. I feel like -- like I'm better able to control myself, and my emotions."

She stood there, listening to him speak, and feeling very honored. She was happy that he thought so much of her; and, although the concept made her a little nervous, she was proud that he wanted her to meet his family.

And, quite honestly, she owed him. He had been there for her tirelessly regarding the grief that hit her, hit her HARD, after learning of her mother's death. Patiently listening to her talk into the early hours of the morning about the past, about the life that a young girl named Beth Solo had once lived with her parents Han and Leia.

The more she had talked, the better she had felt, until she was finally able to function again at a semi-normal level. If it hadn't been for Hux, she never would have found her way out of the darkness; and that was something she wouldn't ever forget.

"Of course, I'll go with you," she said, smiling at the look of relief that washed over his handsome features. "IF you can clear it with Snoke, that is."

"Trust me, there'll be no problem on this end", he said, hugging her to him, smiling widely. "Thank you so much; you don't know what this means to me."

He let go and walked back to the other end of the table, to collect his datapad and greatcoat.

Kyla watched him, smiling.

"I'll expect you to make it up to me, though, General", she said, a wicked look spreading over her face.

"Oh?", he asked, turning to face her, quirking an eyebrow. "Really?"

She glided towards him gracefully, taking the datapad and coat out of his hands and setting them on the table. 

She pushed him roughly into a chair, climbing into his lap and kissing aggressively down his jawline, pausing to suck a bite into the muscle of his neck. 

Feeling him shudder beneath her, she leaned up to murmur in his ear:

"Really."


	9. Chapter 9

The atmosphere of this planet was a lot different than she expected. 

For some reason she had imagined forests; acres and acres of emerald mountains and treetops lit up with glowing sunshine.

Well, anyway, it WAS green.

A wet, dripping green that spread from surface to surface, giving the sparse light an illuminating jade glow. 

But there was no sun when they arrived, and hadn't been any for the few days that they'd been there.

It felt to her that this planet seemed to be ruled by Terran's Lord Indra, a mythological deity of Rain and Thunderstorms.

Hux apologized repeatedly for not preparing her better for the climate; but in his defense, it was something that he had grown up with and was used to, therefore not really thinking of how it might be odd to an outsider.

Personally, she didn't mind the rain; eventually she grew used to it and it became a soothing background melody for her, soft in some parts, hard in others, the pitch and the tone of the water and wind changing with each new downpour.

She had bought several new outfits for this trip, breaking away from her usual heavy black robes in favor of more casual, loose-flowing hooded dresses, in a variety of different colors.

She had wanted to make a good impression on Hux's family, and figured that dressing like a normal person rather than a masked assasin would be a good start.

They all knew who she was, of course. Hux had informed his family beforehand of the "guest" he was bringing home, being completely honest in giving them her name and telling them how she was Supreme Leader Snoke's apprentice and a Dark Lordess of the Sith.

His family was loyal to the First Order but really had no opinion one way or another on the issue of Force-users. Hux's father had served under Emperor Palpatine of the Galactic Empire, and, by way of extension, Lord Vader, the well-known dark Force user who ruled under him.

And who was Lady Ren's grandfather.

They respected her in the capacity that she possessed great powers, and came from a known and distinguished bloodline; however, they did not see the Force as something that directly impacted their lives. 

In this respect, they (meaning his sisters) treated her the same way as they would treat any woman whom their brother would bring home and announce a romantic relationship with. 

They welcomed her warmly, greeting her with hugs instead of handshakes, genuine questions and conversation instead of forced small talk, and an almost immediate inclusion in their familial circle.

And it was nice; in fact, it was wonderful, to just be treated as a normal person, rather than someone who was to be feared, or unconsciously set apart due to her association with Snoke and her dark side connections.

Hux had 4 sisters, each ranging in age about 3-4 years apart from each other, with Hux being the baby.

The three oldest sisters lived with their husbands in scattered houses throughout the countryside. They came to meet her, the first day she and Hux had arrived. 

All three had red hair, like Hux, and the second oldest had children, twin boys and a little girl with soft brown hair and bright eyes who asked her endless questions about her lightsaber and her "magic".

Kyla found that she could fascinate the child quite easily by doing simple moves such as levitating objects and showing her that she could read her mind. 

The child, whose name was Rubia, became inseparable from Kyla in those few hours they were visiting, which Kyla found remarkably refreshing. 

She was not used to feeling so at ease in the presence of other people, so this was a new experience for her.

She was amused at how Hux's sisters teased him, pinching his cheeks and saying things like "Its about time; we thought you'd NEVER bring home a girl!" 

His least-oldest sister was another charming lady; polite, warm, friendly. But Kyla could sense something darkening her spirits and dampening her energy. She was unmarried, with no kids, and she still lived here, at home, taking care of her father.

And Kyla could completely understand how that task was weighing her down.

Meeting Hux's father was nothing like meeting his sisters. 

She could feel an immediate chill in his presence; a kind of cold, detached, superior attitude that reminded her quite a lot of Snoke.

She noticed how Hux immediately changed in his presence. 

With his sisters he was calm, easy-going and relaxed. He had greeted each of them with a wide hug and cheek-smacking kiss.

With his father, it was a completely different atmosphere. 

Brendol Hux was a tall man, muscular for his age, with a pale complexion and salt and pepper hair. He walked rigidly and upright, and when he spoke, his style was more interrogational than conversational.

 

They greeted each other with a firm handshake, a stiff formal greeting, and nothing more. When Hux introduced her as his girlfriend, he looked her over, as if inspecting a piece of furniture, and extended the same cool, impersonal handshake to her.

As they were led into a sitting room for tea, she was aware that Brendol Hux was radiating out disapproval from his pores, although she couldn't tell whether it was for her, or his son.

"Armitage", he said gruffly, frowning at his son. "You are 32 years of age, are you not? It is more than time for you to settle down, with a family of your own. What is this "girlfriend" nonsense?"

"Father--", Hux began, struggling to maintain his composure. "I will--start my life in that manner when I am ready to. Not before."

"Ready?", scoffed his father. What do you mean, 'ready?' You are 32, you are a General in command of a large army, your finances are in order, I presume your health is in order--"

He stopped, pointing a finger in Kyla's direction.

"You are the granddaughter of Lord Vader, are you not?"

"Yes, I am", she answered, looking directly at him.

"I knew your grandfather, many years ago. Served him right up until his and the Emperor's death. The glory days of the Galactic Empire, that was. That is, until that self-righteous bastard came and destroyed everything."

She started a little, disbelieving. She knew he was talking about her--Uncle, Luke Skywalker, who was widely regarded as the one who ended the life of Emperor Sidious and Vader, beginning the collapse of the Empire.

There was no love lost between herself and Luke, but still, it rankled to hear him spoken of this way.

Brendol continued, addressing her while looking at his son.

"Has the General asked you to marry him, yet? Are those your intentions, your future plans?"

She could feel the anger, hot and painful, rising up in her chest. She struggled her hardest to contain it; she knew this whole situation was hard enough for Hux without the added strain of her exploding into a rage.

She swallowed the feeling as quickly as she could, steadying her breathing before answering "No, Sir, he hasn't. We've only been dating a few months."

"Dating", he scoffed, turning disapproving eyes on his son. "You are both far too old for such teenage nonsense terminology. Armitage, if there's one thing I've told you time and time again--"

Abruptly Hux stood up, pulling Kyla roughly to her feet with him. "Forgive us, father; but we've had a rather long trip and we're both a little tired. We're going to retire to our room for a while; we'll see you at supper."

With that he turned and strode out of the room, temporarily leaving Kyla alone with Hux Sr. 

Briefly, very briefly, she wondered how upset Hux would be if she were to Force-choke this man. He wouldn't necessarily be able to pinpoint his death on her; he had already said his father was ill, so he /might/ just think that he had had an attack of some sort, maybe brought on by their unpleasant confrontation. 

No, she thought to herself. No, no, no, Hux /would/ know. And he'd probably be a little put-out if she murdered his father on the very day she just met him

I'll give it a week, she jokingly thinks to herself.

Maybe less.

"It was nice to meet you, Sir", she said out-loud, before turning and walking out of the room to go catch up with Hux.

As she left, she caught the direction of the man behind her's thoughts, her heart sinking as she picked up the words "She'd be a pretty girl--if it weren't for that awful mark across her face. I can see why Armitage wouldn't want to marry her."

She found Hux sitting in the little bedroom they were sharing for their stay here, unpacking his clothes and hanging them in the closet. 

His back was to her, so she couldn't see his face; but she could tell by the feeling in the room that he was angry, irritated, frustrated, and sad. 

She softly padded across the carpet to stand behind him, wanting to take him in her arms but afraid to. He didn't say anything, although she knew that he had sensed her behind him; so she walked away and sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.

After a few minutes, his voice floated in her direction, startling her.

"This was my room when I was a boy, you know", he said, still not turning around. "They've changed the bedding but otherwise it looks the exact same."

Kyla looked around her, frowning. The walls were a dismal shade of light gray, the carpet being a darker gray-black. There was a single window that looked out on a large fenced-in backyard property. A single dresser, dark brown wood, stood next to the tiny closet. There was a small desk with a pull out chair and a small black reading lamp in its corner. The walls were blank save for a few framed certificates and awards from Hux's academy days.The bed was small single-person size with 4 black pillows and a heavy black comforter and sheet set.

As if reading her thoughts about the bed, he looked over his shoulder at her, frowning in thought.

"I know the bed is a bit small. I'm sorry about that; I should have asked if we could have switched out one of the bigger beds in the guest rooms for this one."

She shook her head and grinned, leaning back playfully into the covers.

"That's ok; it just means we'll have to sleep /really/ close, doesn't it?"

He smiled a little at that, nodding; but the smile didn't touch his eyes. With a barely audible sigh he turned back around and, having finished with his own clothes, began to put hers in the closet as well; removing them from the suitcase and hanging them with a careful delicacy that she found fascinating.

"I could do that myself, you know, Hux."

"I know", he said, taking a blue dress and brushing it off before setting it on a hanger. "But I don't mind."

She watched him for a few moments before saying, in a soft voice, "I really like your sisters, Hux. They were so nice to me. And your niece is such a lovely child. So many questions!"

He turned to look at her, a gentle smile curving onto his lips. "When I used to come back here, she would sit on my lap for hours and play with my hat, and ask me all sorts of questions about my "ammy". Not my "army"; my "ammy". Looks like she's found someone more interesting than me now, though."

She laughed a little, at that. "Ammy? That's hilarious", she said, getting up once more and standing next to him, wrapping his waist in a hug. "You know, General, if it makes you feel better, /I/ could sit on your lap for a few hours and /play/ with you, too."

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her lips before replying "That /does/ sound -- /comforting/, but for now I'll have to give you a rain check. I really doubt that flimsy bed would hold up to that kind of -- /sitting/."

"Fair enough", she said, kissing his neck before pulling out of his arms. "But, you know, for future consideration--I bet the /floor/ would."

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

They stayed for the rest of the week. 

All in all, with the unpleasant exception of Hux's father, Kyla really enjoyed her stay there.

There was something about the consistency of the days, of the familiar faces of Hux's family dropping in and out and the repetitiveness of the weather, that was deeply soothing to her.

This was worlds away from the daily grind of work back on Starkiller base, with the constant drills and meetings and training and planning and strategizing and missions and conferences with Snoke. 

She was quickly becoming friends, good friends, with Kataya, the sister who lived in the house. She was kind, and she was funny, with a cheeky, sarcastic sense of humor that almost matched Kyla's own.

She also taught (or attempted to teach) Kyla how to cook, showing her a few easy recipes and practicing with her until she could prepare something without setting the house on fire. 

The first time she tried to show Kyla how to make cookies, Kyla turned the mixer on to whip up the dough BEFORE putting it inside the bowl first, resulting in batter splattering all over the kitchen and streaking the walls with colorful doughy globs. The two women had laughed themselves into hysterics as they cleaned up, joking about how they had so much dough in their hair they may as well just bake themselves in the oven.

Hux spent the majority of the time with his father, helping him get some affairs in order. His father was in the process of selling some of his property out in the country to a nerf-herding ranch, and Hux was helping him broker the deal, having hologram meetings with the prospective new owners and going over paperwork for the it.

After that first day, Hux Sr. did not question them anymore on their relationship.

When they ate supper together, his inquiries revolved solely around Starkiller base and the proceedings of military life there.

Hux answered what questions he could, bringing Kyla into the conversation when necessary and letting her tell things from her perspective.

Hux Sr. did not care for her opinions as much as he did his son's; however he was rather interested in the things she told him about her interrogational duties, and how she went about collecting information from those they captured.

"Your grandfather did things the same way", he said, once, when she had told of a particularly difficult captive that had forced her to use more "persuasion" than normal on. 

She wasn't sure, but she thought it was meant to be a compliment.

She could sense, listening to him, that he actually really enjoyed these conversations with the son he treated so harshly. It was as though he was living vicariously through Hux; relishing the stories of battles and missions and combat and reliving his own glory days as a General in the Galactic Empire.

She could tell, from his thoughts, that it bothered him immensely that he was no longer in the same shape he used to be, or the same mental state. His health had declined a lot in recent years, his heart weakening and his mind slowly losing the razor sharpness that it had been known for in his youth.

He was the sort of person who abhorred any signs of physical weakness, and had trouble accepting that he sometimes needed a walking stick to get around, and that he was dependent on Kataya taking care of him on a daily basis.

From a Force perspective, it was easy for Kyla to see that his spirit was wavering; that the energy surrounding his life force was weak and flickering around like a candle in the wind.

If she had to guess, she would say that Hux Sr. would not live another full year, although she said nothing of this to Hux.

She didn't have to.  
He knew it, too.

Perhaps this was why he had chosen to spend his vacation here; to spend a little time with this man who was responsible for his existence, even if that man could be somewhat infuriating at times. A little time before there was no more time, at all.

The night before the morning when they were to leave, Kyla was in their room, folding and packing away their clothes into suitcases and tidying everything up.

Realizing that she would need a broom, she left, heading towards the kitchen.

On the way there, she paused in front of Hux's father's room, tilting her head at the loud voices coming through the door. 

Being unable to help herself, she stood quietly outside the door, eavesdropping, her mouth opening slightly in shock as she picked up on bits of the conversation.

" . . . just not ready for that kind of commitment yet!", Hux was saying, muffled through the door.

"Bullshit. Again with this 'not ready' nonsense. Always 'not ready' with you! Son, as a man you have to know when to take initiative on things and when to from walk away from something that has no chance of being successful."

"We DO have a chance at being successful! Just NOT NOW! What is so hard about that for you to understand?!"

"You do realize, don't you, that we have only been together for about 6 months, barely half a year? You don't find that timeline to be extremely short to make a decision on whether marriage is a viable option to pursue?"

His father cleared his throat before answering, 

"Son. I knew your mother for 3 weeks before I asked her to be my wife. 3 WEEKS. And we were together for over 30 years, before she died. 5 children. A successful career in the military. THAT is what I don't understand; how you can be with someone that long and not take the next mature step."

"You and I have different conceptions of time", said Hux in a low voice that she could barely make out. "Also of maturity."

"And besides which, what do you care, anyway? You know all my life it was always that I was never good enough, never doing the right thing at the correct time, in the way that YOU would do it. I've --given up trying to please you, Father. I could marry Kyla tomorrow and you'd still have something to say about what we did wrong, so what's the point anymore? Seriously, what?"

There was a long pause, lone enough to make Kyla think that she should move away from the door before Hux inevitably stormed out, when his father spoke again, in a quieter voice than she would have imagined him capable of.

"Armitage. You are the best son anyone could ask for. I push you so hard because I care. If--if I were to stop pushing you, pushing your limits, you would stop dead in your tracks and never move forward in life. "

"If I'm pushing you so hard about this girl, it is only because I care. I truly do. She is a lovely, talented young woman and she seems to feel a great deal of affection towards you. If it's one thing that my entire lifetime has taught me, it's this: you can have a successful career in whatever field you want, you can ascend through all the ranks and be at the very top of the stars. But if you don't have something to balance that out, something at home that's worth more than a medal or a rank, then nothing, NOTHING you've achieved is worth anything."

There were no more words for the longest time, and when she finally did hear something, it was so out of place that at first she couldn't identify what is was.

It was crying.

Soft, choking tears coming from one or both men, from beyond the doors.

She peeked through the keylock, squinting a little, and was shocked to see father and son, quietly embracing.

She walked quietly back to their room, deciding to just leave the broom and go on packing.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Saying goodbye to Kataya the next morning was more painful than she expected. She had never really had a friend before, unless you counted Hux, and found herself sad at the thought of leaving this warm soul behind.

"Try not to get sick of my brother or carve him up with your lightsaber or anything", Kataya said jokingly, hugging Kyla. "I'd really like to have you come back here the next time you two can get away."

"I'll try", Kyla said, laughing a little as she embraced the shorter girl. "No promises, though. About the lightsaber part, anyway."

"Understood", Kataya smiled, giving her brother a final squeeze before turning and walking quickly back to the house, subtly brushing a stray tear out of her eye.

She and Hux exchanged handshakes with Brendol, as professional and stoic as when they had first arrived. This time, however, she could sense a change in the internal feelings of both father and son; a mellowed, easier acceptance between the two of them that wasn't there before.

Both of them were quiet, thoughtful as they boarded their shuttle and Hux punched in the coordinates of their destination before taking off, leaving the watery emeralds of Arkanis behind them.

She sat silently in the copilot seat for a while, watching the stars and planets glide past the windows, when Hux reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing each finger gently.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just --thank you."

"You're welcome", she replied, smiling to herself as she squeezed his hand tightly and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes, mentally preparing herself for their return back to work.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was in the middle of writing this chapter when I stopped to check my Twitter, just to glance at it, and saw that Carrie Fisher had passed away.
> 
> I can't even begin to describe how wrecked I feel over this.
> 
> I never really understood before how people could get so worked up over the death of celebrities, of people they've never met outside of movies and tv shows.
> 
> I get it now.
> 
> The Star Wars franchise has played a significant part in my life for as long as I can remember. The characters, the stories, the themes all resonate with me personally in some powerful ways.
> 
> Carrie Fisher was one bad woman. She more than anything else embodied the idea that no matter what happens, giving up is not an option. Fight. Fight until your last breath, and then use that last breath to fight some more.
> 
> Her advocacy for the rights and the needs of people who suffer from Depression really struck a chord with me, as I am one of those people. Her words taught me never to be ashamed of the way I am, and that seeking help is not a weakness, but a sign of immeasurable strength.
> 
> Goodbye Princess Leia.  
> RIP Carrie Fisher.
> 
> May the Force be with you, and ALL of us --Always.

She stood in a corner of the dark room, watching the little gray-haired man slowly regain his consciousness.

Her men had beaten him into a bloody, bruised mess, but had not been able to get the information that they needed out of him. As was always the case, they sent him to Kyla's interrogation chambers as a last resort.

They had caught this man, this Rebel, in possession of stolen First Order documents that detailed the location of First Order secret fleet locations hidden around the Galaxy. They needed to know where he had obtained these plans, and what else, if anything, he knew about the First Order's ship configurations.

Now he was awake, chained to her shackle-laden chair and watching her with a wary alertness. 

"I have to say that I'm impressed, old man", she said in a condescending voice. "We've had people in here half your age that cracked under the kind of pain we put you through."

He tilted his head, looking at her but not answering her observation.

"You have to realize though, don't you, that it will do you no good to continue your pitiful efforts to resist? 

You know what it is I want; and you'll give it to me, whether you want to or not.  
You have two options in the matter," she said, coming out of the shadows and coming halfway across the room towards him. 

"You can tell me what I want to know; open your mouth and speak to me. If you do that we'll put you in a nice comfortable cell and you won't have to worry about being a Rebel spy any more. No more sneaking, no lying, no missions, just a nice, peaceful 3 meals a day and a place to sleep "vacation". Someone of your advanced age surely deserves a rest, wouldn't you say so?"

He didn't respond, still looking at her intently, as if contemplating her offer.

"Or, she said, stepping closer, dropping her voice into a low growl, "If you don't wish to comply that way, I can just take the information I want. Rip it right from your filthy rebel scum mind. And when I do that, we kill you. Simple."

There was a pause; when he finally spoke, he said something so unexpected that she actually took a step backwards, shocked.

"Is--is your name Beth? Beth Solo?"

She stared at him in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly before regaining her composure. She was glad that her mask hid her facial slip-up. 

Walking slowly up to him, arms clenched into fists, she growled out in her distorted voice "Beth Solo is dead."

"Or Beth Solo is standing in front of me, buried under a cloak called Kyla Ren."

She blinked, a little shocked at his audacity, and the fact that he seemed determined to speak to her whether she wanted to listen or not.

She reached out to his mind, finding that he was unafraid of her, and adamant about conveying what be felt was an important message to her.

"If I release your restraints, are you going to attack me?", she asked in a soft voice.

"Well that would be pretty useless, wouldn't it? I've heard of what you can do; I haven't lived this long by being a fool."

Before she could question herself, she waved her hand over his body, releasing the restraints from his wrists and ankles.

He shook out his arms slowly, rubbing his wrists and being careful to make no movement that might be thought of as aggressive.

"Sit", she said, gesturing towards a small iron chair in the opposite corner.

Remaining in her position across the room, she folded her arms and asked him "What--what message do you have for Beth?"

He shifted in his seat, tapping his side but making no move remove his shirt and retrieve it.

"It's taped to my side," he said, indicating the spot by inclining his head. 

"I would have thought that my men would have searched you better. How . . . disappointing," she said softly, mostly to herself. 

"Oh they did", he reassured her, grinning absurdly in spite of the grimness of his situation. But General Organa sent this message in a DNA lock-box. Only those who share blood with the General can unlock it. It was useless to your men."

She paused for a beat before approaching him and lifting up his shirt, carefully removing the box, a small blue container with a rolled up note floating in the middle.

She slipped it into the pocket of her robe, backing away and staring at him, unsure of what to say.

"How would--General Organa know that you would risk being captured, thereby making you capable of delivering this message to . . . Beth?"

"She didn't", he replied, sitting up straighter and looking her in the face. "ALL of our operatives carry this same message, ordered to, upon the event of capture, if possible, give this note to either a Beth Solo or a Kyla Ren. This was only to be executed upon--upon the General's death."

She turned around, smiling to herself a little.

"That sounds just like my mother; always preparing for every possible option," she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, not even realizing that her words indicated that she admitted to being the Beth that he was seeking.

She tried to steel her mind towards the inevitable; nice man or not, she was going to have to kill him. She saw in his mind that he had no intention of betraying the Resistance. She also saw that he did not fear death in the least; feeling as though he had lived long and had fulfilled all of his life goals. 

Whirling back to face him, she stretched out her gloved hand and drove herself into the deepest corners of his mind, finding the information that she was looking for and committing it to her own memory.

She withdrew her mental force, watching him, panting and sprawled back in his chair from the physical pain of the act.

She waited until he had regained his composure, stepping slowly to him and lowering her masked face inches from his.

"Thank you for this," she said, tapping her forehead, "And for /this/"; as she tapped the box in her pocket. Both are appreciated."

She waved her hand in front of him, causing him to instantly lose consciousness.

Focusing her energy, she extracted his entire collection of memories concerning Starkiller Base (including his current 'visit') and the data he had discovered about their ships and fleet configurations.

Making sure that his mind was a complete blank save for his name and his affiliation with her mother's Resistance, she called two StormTroopers into the room, ordering them to bring her a datapad. 

They stood as she typed the man's stolen intelligence into the Pad and sent it to Snoke and all the higher ranking FO offices. 

Then she instructed them, in a low voice, to take the man into one of the ships and drop him off at the nearest travel station; to leave him in a public place where someone would be sure to find him.

She assured them that he would remain unconscious for the duration of the trip, and watched as they carried him out, slung limp between them.

Debating on whether she wished to return to her quarters or remain where she was to hear her mother's note to her, she chose the latter, pulling the heavy door shut and moving to crouch in the darkest corner of the room.

She pulled the box out of her pocket and lightly pressed her thumb into the finger shaped keyhole lock, listening as it emitted a soft Click and opened, revealing a small rolled-up scroll with her mother's handwriting on it.

Unraveling it with shaking fingers, she took a deep breath and read:

 

My dearest Beth,

If you are receiving this note, it is due entirely to TWO reasons: 

One, I have passed away, and Two: You have captured one of my men. 

I have so many things to say to you that I am unsure where to begin, but I feel I should say the most important thing first; I am sorry. 

I am so unspeakably, completely sorry, for a great many things. 

I feel I have failed you as a parent.

Both of us did, Han and I. 

I have had years to reflect on my mistakes, and have come to the conclusion that my biggest fault lies with not having taken more consideration to your feelings, or taking seriously your opinions on the direction you felt your life was moving.

I know it may be impossible to believe now, considering the way things turned out; but I had nothing but the best intentions for you when I sent you away to train with Luke.

I saw how powerful you already were, and knew you had the potential to be even more powerful than my own father, your grandfather Vader.

I took the only course of action I felt would help you; sending you to someone that I trusted to try and help you gain control of your powers.

I know now that that was a mistake.

It was also a mistake to be away so much during your youth; to put so much time and energy into my Republic activities rather than focusing on my family. I know that your father felt the same way.

Beth, I can't tell you how devastated I was to hear of your father's death at your hands. If there was a definitive moment in my life where I could see clearly my biggest failure as a person, that was it.

I sincerely wish that we had been able to help you, to fix the anger and rage within your soul and help you find peace.

I do not know if you are happy, with what you have chosen to do with your life. I hope that you are.

No matter what you think, it is not too late for you to come home. It will never be too late. Even though I am (presumably) no longer living, I have made it clear to my operatives that you will always have a home with the Resistance, should you ever choose to leave the First Order.

That is my dream; for you to come home. 

But no matter what, Beth Solo, more than anything else, I want you to follow your own heart and choose your own path in life. Each of us has a destiny, and nobody can choose your destiny for you, BUT you. 

Beth, I love you. No matter what you have done or will do, I will always love you. Always. More than my own life.

Forgive me,  
I love you, 

Mama.  
~*~*~*~

She read the letter once, twice, three times, hands shaking and eyes blurring harder each time. But no matter how wet her eyes felt, no tears would come. None.

She felt so many things at once that she wasn't sure her body could handle everything she was experiencing.

She had thought she had already reconciled her feelings and grief towards her mother; that she had moved past the pain and put it behind her.

She felt as though this tiny letter had ripped a huge gash down the side of her body, tearing away the skin and muscle, crushing her bones and exposing her organs.

She sat there for the next 2 hours, crouched down in the corner; her legs numb, her hands clutching the note, her mind completely shut down to all outside disturbances.

She was barely aware of when the door was pushed open and Hux walked in, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the darkness, looking for her.

"There you are, Kyla! I've been looking all over for you! We all got your datapad message about the prisoner; good work on getting what we needed, by the way. Snoke is very pleased with you. I went down to your chambers but you weren't there, so I thought --" he trailed off, just now noticing how still she was, how quiet.

"What happened? Are you Ill?", he asked, walking over and lifting her helmet off her head, pressing his hands to her cheeks and forehead.

She didn't answer, just shaking he head and looking at the floor.

"What are you holding in your hand? Where did that come from?", he asked, looking at the scroll she was gripping in her palm.

She explained to him in a mechanical voice what had happened with the prisoner, and how she had come to obtain the note.

"What--what does it say?", he asked timidly.

Wordlessly she held it out to him, staring straight ahead as he unfolded the scroll and read each word carefully, his face subtly blanching as he realized just how much pain she was in right now.

"Kyla", he began, pausing, unsure of what to say.

She stood up quickly, grimacing at the pain in her legs from having been crouched down so long, and, taking her helmet back from the General, clicked it into place over her head as she walked quickly out of the room, not looking back.

Hux watched her leave, wanting quite badly to run after her but sensing that she needed some time to be alone, to process her feelings.

He went back to the Bridge to finish out his shift, finding it difficult to keep his mind on his work and hoping the time would go by quickly.

An few hours later he went down to her quarters, knocking softly on her door, a cup of tea in his hand.

No answer.

He knocked louder, and louder still, to no avail. He figured that maybe she had went on a walk somewhere, and decided to come back later.

He went to his own quarters and punched in the code to open the door, sighing to himself.

He walked into his bedroom, pulling off his hat and coat; and stopped, surprised.

Kyla was laying in his bed, curled up in a ball and breathing evenly in and out, snoring lightly.

Moving quietly so as not to wake her, he finished undressing from his uniform and pulled on casual clothes, tiptoeing quietly into the kitchen to make something to eat.

Kyla padded out to the kitchen about 20 minutes later, rubbing her eyes, looking very embarrassed and disoriented.

"I'm sorry, Hux," she said timidly, looking at the floor. "I should have asked you if I could come to your place. I just--I couldn't be in my own place. I just--"

"No, no, it's okay," he said, smiling at how shy she seemed. "You're -- you're here all the time, anyway, you know. Even when you're not. I'm always thinking about you, always dreaming. You are ALWAYS here," he said, tapping his knuckles on the counter for emphasis.

"That--sounds really awful. For you", she said, smirking.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely awful. Horrifying. I have the most amazing woman in the world standing in front of me, and she loves me, and I love her, and I can't stop thinking about her. REALLY awful. Do you think they have support groups for people like me?"

"Well, if you find one, find me one, too, please. I've found a guy that loves me enough to put up with my shit and totally not care that I broke into his quarters while he was gone to sleep in his bed, like a psychopath. I can't begin to tell you terrible THAT is."

They looked at each other and smiled, and seeing him smile eased some of the pain in her heart.

"Here, by the way," he said, reaching into his pocket and bringing out the scroll. "You left this. I think--you should keep it."

She nodded, folding it in half and putting it into her pocket.

"Do you--do you want to talk about it?"

She hesitated, before sighing and going to sit at the table. She propped her elbows on the table and put her chin into her hands, staring absently at the conservator.

"No, there's nothing to talk about," she mumbled, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. "I just--felt a little bad, that's all. And surprised. I haven't heard from the woman in so many years, and I never expected--" she trailed off, closing her eyes against the sudden sting that came into them.

They were both silent a moment before Hux said "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said, keeping her eyes closed but turning her face in his direction.

"Do you hate your other name entirely, or did you just change it to join the dark side? Because honestly, I think it sounds wonderful."

"Or--" he went on, what if we had a little girl some day, me and you? Think of it: Beth Solo-Hux, The Second."

She opened her eyes, a sad smile on her face.

"Hux . . . no. I wouldn't--let you ruin your life enough to be with me THAT long, to have children with me. Seriously, how selfish do you think I am?"

"Selfish?", he asked, coming over and sitting down next to her. "Well no, you're right, you ARE being selfish; but not the way you're thinking of. If you took yourself away from me, I don't think I could live. Even if I could I wouldn't want to."

"You would find someone else. It'd be easy for you; you're handsome and you're a prominent member of the most powerful faction in the galaxy. Very easy."

He frowned, looking at her, incredulity leaking from his eyes. "Okay then, Kyla. I want you to picture that. I want you, right now, to picture me with someone else. I want you to picture me holding her, kissing her, laying next to her."

Kyla doubled over in her chair, clutching at her stomach. The intense wave of physical pain that hit her when he said that was frightening in its strength.

In a second Hux was out of his chair and holding her.

"You see?", he whispered, rocking her in his arms. "I feel the same way when I think of you with anybody else. It hurts to even imagine it."

She sat up after a moment, feeling better. "Well, then, I guess that means we're stuck with each other, huh?"

"I sincerely hope so", he smiled, kissing her forehead.

"And to answer your question, yes, I DO hate that name. A lot. If we were to have a girl, I'd pick something much more--beautiful. Lyrical. Inspiring."

"Like what?"

"Like . . . Leia."


	11. Chapter 11

They brought him into medbay on a stretcher. The sheet covering him was supposed to be white but in reality it was streaked a gruesome brown-red with dirt, and blood that had managed to leak through the temporary bandages they'd wrapped around his head and sides.

Kyla watched numbly as they undressed him and began to work over his wounds, injecting him with enough medicine so that he wouldn't feel anything. 

Not that he'd know if he were feeling anything, anyway; he was still unconscious.

The Dr. came over to talk to her in a low voice, saying that they wished to put him in a medically induced coma to help repair of the severe head and chest injuries he had received. 

As the only person on base with an equal rank to the General's, they needed her permission/order to be able to do this.

"Yes", she whispered, putting her hand on the Dr.'s arm. "If it is necessary to help him, then yes."

"Lady Ren?"

She turned her head slowly, eyeing the StormTrooper who had come about halfway into the room to address her.

"Lady Ren, Supreme Leader Snoke requests that you make contact with him at once regarding the condition of the General."

Telling the Dr. that she'd return later, she left the room and went down to Snoke's chambers, kneeling on the floor pad and initiating the conversation.

Her voice was so calm that she didn't recognize it as her own. She went through the details of the battle they had come through, the casualties they had sustained, what damage, if any, befell their terrain vehicles and equipment.

She finally got around to speaking of Hux, detailing the extent of his injuries and what they were doing to help him.

Snoke nodded but offered no commentary one way or another about the condition of the General; rather he detailed out how he wished things to be run during the General's "absence", naming certain Captains he felt could take over Hux's duties on the Bridge and in the field until he could resume his command.

She nodded to show that she was hearing him; making mental notes of who Snoke was naming and what he wanted them to do.

She left his chambers and immediately called a meeting of Officers in the General's conference room, feeling odd as she took her place in Hux's seat rather than her own.

In a firm, steady voice she detailed the nature of Hux's injuries, as well as a briefing of the situation after the battle. She spoke to the individual Captains whom Snoke had named, detailing for them how they were to take charge of various commands on the Base.

Throughout her meeting she was vaguely aware that everyone in the room seemed to be staring at her more intensely than usual. She attributed that to the serious nature of the situation, or maybe the shock of seeing the normally silent woman being a vocal leader, for once.

Then she reached up absently to brush hair off of her forehead and realized: she had forgotten to put her helmet back on.

No wonder everyone was staring.

Still, she found that she didn't care much. 

All she could think about was getting back to Hux; but she knew that he would want her to take care of her duties, first, and make sure everything was set to run smoothly during his convalescence. 

After the meeting, she sent a hologram call to Kataya, telling her that her brother had been injured but was stabilized, and expected to make a full recovery after an appropriate period of rest.

She answered all of his sister's questions thoroughly, calmly, assuring her that she would contact her if his condition were to worsen in any way, and provide transportation to her if at anytime she wished to come see him.

When she was finished talking with Kataya, she sat quietly in the empty room for a few seconds, thinking.

The ground battle in the fields beyond the Base had been extremely unexpected. A large group of enemy insurgents had somehow infiltrated the planet's security and had made their way almost to their 'front door', launching a full scale attack on the army that was situated there.

Her men had actually fought rather well, considering how unprepared they had been in that exact moment. 

Genetal Hux had been commanding a drill for a squadron of StormTroopers out beyond the base when the attack occurred, and had fought alongside his men, managing to take out a large group of enemies on his own before being struck down and disabled.

Now Kyla walked slowly back to medbay, steeling herself for whatever she might find there.

She entered the room and immediately the Dr. left his seat by Hux's bedside, where he had been checking his pulse, and came to talk to her.

They had managed to stop the flow of blood and stabilize him, closing up the worst of his wounds and firmly bandaging the smaller ones. His coma was in full effect, and was hoped to be able to aid his body in healing its internal injuries.

"How long will he be asleep like this?", she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Really, that's up to the General, and to his body", he answered honestly, his eyes small and bright in his tired face. "It could be a few days, could be a few weeks. Maybe longer. Maybe less. I've seen it go both ways before."

"But", he said, timidly putting his hands on her arms, forcing her to look at him, "I feel that he will be fine. Truly, he will be. He's young, and very physically strong, and I KNOW that /you/ know he is mentally strong."

"Is--does he have to stay in this room for the duration of his sleep? I mean, would it be possible to take him back to my quarters, to set these machines up there? Maybe?"

The Dr. frowned, thinking. "I'd really rather be stayed here, so that my med droids can monitor him. But how's this: if he's not awake within 3 days, I'll have everything moved to your quarters and you can take care of him from there? I'll still come by daily, or send the droids, if that became the case. But I want at least a few days of him here, so that we can be sure that he is entirely stable."

"That sounds very reasonable, Dr. Thank you," she said, and without thinking about it she leaned up and wrapped the older man into a quick, gentle hug.

He returned her embrace, surprised, but pleased. 

"One thing, my dear: I want YOU to be sure to get some rest. I know that's easier said than done, in a situation like this; but I can assure you that you would be no help to him, or to yourself, if you worried yourself into a sleepless wreck because of this. And then I would have TWO patients. And they would have to pay me double," he added that last part jokingly, hoping to make her smile.

It worked, briefly. "I'll keep that in mind, Dr., thank you," she said, as she watched him take his leave.

She closed the door, turning around to face Hux. She tiptoed quietly to his bedside, looking down on him.

His skin was the palest she had ever seen it, with bruised looking dark crescents under each eye. His visible skin was a myriad of wrappings and bandages. His normally carefully styled hair was an orange jungle, spiking and whirling in all directions at once.

Delicately, she smoothed his ginger locks back into place as best she could, being careful not disturb the bandages wrapped around his head. 

He looked so fragile like this. So vulnerable; yet somehow still relaxed and peaceful.

"Hux?", she said awkwardly, feeling like her voice sounded too loud, too unnatural. She lowered it and went on. "Hux, I'm here. I'm here with you. I don't want you to worry about anything. I'm gonna take care of everything, so you just rest. Sleep as long as you need to, and don't worry. I'm here."

She pulled up a chair and laid her head gently by his chest, taking care not to disturb any of the tubes or needles running into his body.

She reached into his mind to see if he was thinking anything, anything at all; but was met with radio silence.

That's ok, she thought to herself. He'll be back soon. 

She closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Days went by, and there was no change. 

As promised, after the third day, Hux was moved into her quarters, along with a Medical Droid to keep round the clock watch on him while she was busy during the day.

Before they had brought him, she had spent a considerable amount of time meticulously scrubbing and cleaning and rearranging her quarters, a large part of her mind harping at her about how ridiculous it was to put so much effort into appearance when the General wasn't even awake to see it, anyway.

But she didn't feel that it was entirely silly. 

She was ridiculously sloppy, and it showed in the condition of her quarters. Hux was someone who always kept his own life so neat, so orderly and meticulous, that she wanted him to feel comfortable being in her rooms--even if he wasn't able to actually appreciate it. 

Her daytime duties keep her remarkably busy, which she was very grateful for. The busier she was the less time she had to worry, to stress out.

She monitored all of the Captains who were taking over Hux's duties with extreme attention to detail, offering praise and constructive criticism when needed.

With Hux incapacitated, it now fell on her to lead the weekly meetings, a task she found infinitely frustrating. 

Speaking in front of large groups for extended periods of time had never been her thing, and she was constantly aware of the disparity between her style of tactical and structural planning, and the General's.

For the most part she just stuck to reading different items off of her datapad, and letting the Officers give their usual reports.

If anybody felt that she was a horrible substitute leader in comparison to Hux, nobody showed it. They were all respectful of her and the effort she was putting forth to step into Hux's command, and knowing this made it a little easier to get through these meetings with a positive disposition.

Not by much; but it was enough.

Aside from taking on some of Hux's duties, she still engaged in her daily physical and mental training with Snoke, which she found herself putting more effort into than before.

Going through the familiar motions and exercises brought her mind a measure of peace, and of stability; two things she craved now more than ever.

About a week after Hux's injuries, Kataya had requested to come visit, and Kyla had gladly obliged, sending a shuttle to retrieve her.

She stayed for a couple of days, and Kyla was thankful for her presence. Despite her own worry over her brother she put forth effort into being cheerful, and making Kyla laugh during a time when she found it difficult to even smile.

When she left, Kyla found it hard to keep from falling apart. She realized that she now thought of this woman as being her sister; that she was her blood no matter whether she and Hux were bound together in marriage or not.

Every night she'd spend hours talking to Hux, curled up next to him on her bed, telling him about her day and the things that were going on at the base.

Despite what the Dr. had warned her about, she wasn't sleeping very well at all, and she was only eating tiny snatches of things at sporadic moments throughout the day; but it did not show to those on the outside. Nobody would have guessed the superhuman effort she was making inside just to keep up appearances and remain outwardly strong.

Of course, eventually, it caught up to her.

One day she was sitting in a meeting, listening to a Captain go over his report, when she felt herself slide out of her chair; just slipped to the floor like a rag doll and passed out.

When she woke up hours later, laying next to Hux in bed, the Dr. was standing over her with a stern look on his face.

He ordered her to stay in bed for the next 3 days, saying that he had spoken to Snoke who had agreed to have guards placed outside of the room to ensure that she stayed put.

Meals would be delivered 3 times a day, and the Dr. intended to come personally each time to see that she ate it all.

She sighed tiredly, feeling embarrassed and, for once, glad that Hux was still out of it. If he could see her now, she could imagine all the scolding things he'd have to say to her about not taking care of herself.

She complied with the rest, and complied with the Dr.'s daily visits regarding her eating. Once she got some decent sleep she actually felt much better, and at the end of that second day she felt like she would be ready to get back out and resume her duties; although the Dr. shut down this idea and firmly told her she had to stay at least one more day.

At the end of the third night, after supper, she got out of bed and walked into the sitting room to the window, looking out. Some of the Captains were leading the men in various hand to hand combat drills on the grounds below and she watched, comforted by the uniform smoothness of it all.

She must have dozed off, standing there leaning against the window frame, because she started to dream. In the dream Hux was calling her name, repeatedly, Kyla, KYLA, but she was unable to move her legs or go to him.

She started awake, shaking her head to clear out the fogginess.

And that's when she heard it.

"Kyla? KYLA?"

Was this real? Was she still asleep?

With numb legs she turned and walked towards her bedroom, thinking that she was surely still asleep in the window, wondering why she couldn't wake up.

"Kyla?!"

She got closer, heart pounding, hand hesitating on the doorknob before she turned it and stepped into the room.

What she saw almost made her fall over backwards into a swoon, and it was only by using the Force was she able to keep herself upright.

Hux was sitting up in bed, eyes open, gingerly touching the tubes running into his arms and looking confused.

"Am I still dreaming?", she asked out loud, dazedly, mostly to herself. She felt frozen in the doorway, unable to move.

"Am /I/?", he asked back, giving her a wavery smile.

She found her legs and rushed to his side, hugging him as fiercely as she could manage around his wrappings and tubes, kissing all over his soft sweet face and feeling as though her heart was exploding out of her chest.

"What happened?", he asked in a thick voice, too weak to fully return her barrage of unexpected affection.

Taking a minute to calm herself, she slowly told him about the previous few weeks; about the battle, and his injuries; about the men who had taken over his duties, the Dr. visits, his sister's visit, and more. 

He listened with his usual attention to detail, but remained silent while she spoke, as if still tying to piece together the foggy bits of memory of the last time he had been awake in his head.

"Have you . . . have I been here all this time?"

"Most of it, yes," she said, brushing a tear out of her eye.

He studied her face, frowning a little. "You look so tired, Kyla. Have you been sleeping?"

She shrugged sheepishly, quoting his words from so long ago back at him, "Who needs sleep?"

He smiled at that, holding out his arms for her to come into, and she gladly went, curling up on his chest and hearing the magnificent rhythm of his heartbeat, his strong vital heartbeat, singing in her ears.

"I should go page the Dr. to come and see you, get these things out of you arms," she said, beginning to rise.

He gently held her in place, saying "The tubes can wait a while. Right now all I want is you."

She smiled, raising herself up to kiss his cheek before settling back in his arms.

They were quiet for a while, before he said, amusement in his voice, "So YOU actually ran the meetings while I've been out, huh? How was that for you?"

She chuckled a bit, raising herself up a little to look into his face and say "Honestly, it was probably the most boring thing I've ever done in my life, Hux. I thought it was bad before just /sitting/ through them!"

And then they were both laughing, relishing how good it felt to be doing so again.

"I'll tell you a secret; it helps break up the monotony if you picture everyone naked."

Laughing again, she said teasingly, "I'll keep that in mind, General, if you promise to only keep ME in mind when you're "visualizing" like that."

"Agreed.", he said, stretching down to capture her lips in a deep, lingering kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

"I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore."

She stared at his face, frozen, unable to process what he was saying.

"W-what?", she choked out, thinking she had misheard him.

"I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore", he repeated, a firm, determined look on his face.

She sat down in the chair next to her, feeling all the strength run out of her legs.

"It wouldn't be fair, to keep up this pretense. Not fair to either of us."

"My feelings for you have changed; and I tried to ignore this, thinking I could still make it work somehow in my mind, but I can't, I just can't. I'm sorry, but I can no longer go on calling myself your boyfriend. Or you my girlfriend."

She quickly shut down her mind and stood up to go, desperately trying to block out the pain flooding her entire body, trying not to hear anymore, or see his face.

Trying not to acknowledge the tiny but persistent part of her heart that had believed this day would come, sooner or later. That had expected it, tried in vain to prepare for it.

She didn't get halfway across the room before he was suddenly behind her, grabbing her arm and gently spinning her to face him.

"Girlfriend--isn't enough. It's no where near enough," he said, and she was shocked to see that tears were filling up his eyes.

"My feelings /have/ changed; they've grown stronger. As crazy and as glorious as that seems, they've grown much stronger than I would have fathomed possible."

"I never--I never could have imagined that someone like you would ever want to be with someone like me. You were a dream; a golden unobtainable goal that the likes of me could never achieve."

"All those years spent working beside you, feeling your energy dance and leap around me, and feeling that I could never be a part of your life outside of work; that was eating me alive. Then the day came when I kissed you, and against all odds, against all logical reason or explanations, you kissed me back."

"The second your lips touched mine, I knew. I KNEW that I could not let you go, I knew that I couldn't rest until I had all of you; your heart, your body, your mind and your soul, even if all I had to give you in exchange for those things was myself."

"I couldn't let you go, then, and I could never let you go now. I would die without you, and I want to be absolutely certain that, if you know nothing else I this world, you know this: I am yours. Everything that I have, everything that I am, or ever will be, belongs to you."

"Girlfriend is too paltry a term for what you are to me."

He dropped to his knee in front of her, holding her shaking hand with one of his own, the other bringing a small black box out of his pocket.

"Kyla Ren", he said, tears spilling over his lashes, a muffled sob in his throat. "You are my entire universe. You are everything that I want and need in this world. I never want to be apart from you. Would you grace me with the supreme honor of becoming my Wife?"

Time is a funny thing. It is almost completely subjective to those who are experiencing it.

A lifetime of thoughts, ideas and feelings can be crammed into a few seconds worth of actual time; likewise, a few events can stretch out over an eternity.

She had been together with the General for a little under a year; but that brief span of time stretched out into eternity in her mind. Her life before this year seemed insignificant, without meaning. Her life after would have no importance without the man kneeling in front of her in it.

In the space of a few moments, an overwhelming plethora of details, thoughts, and feelings took over the space in her head and crammed it to overflowing.

A few moments where time froze into place, stopping, allowing her a pause to give attention to all that was galloping into her mind.

For example, the way his eyes had looked when he danced around her medbay room with her, after her lightsaber battle.

The way his shoulders hunched when he was hanging up clothes in his little bedroom after that first confrontation with his father.

The timid way his hands had moved over her body, gentle, yet all but exploding with desire, the first time they had made love.

The sound of the water splashing into the sink as he washed up the dishes from the food they ate after she woke up from her fainting spell.

The way he looked giving orders in the field, sun glinting off his flaming hair, buttons on his black uniform shining in the light.

The way he held her close during the nights she had sobbed herself into near hysteria over her mother and father, patting her back and letting her soak his shirt with grief and saltwater.

When time started again, all the memories faded out and it was just the two of them, together, nearly drowning in the miracle of each other's love.

There could be only one thing to say.

"Yes," she whispered, unaware that she was crying, and quite heavily at that, until he reached up and wiped away her tears with his fingers, his own vision wet and blurred.

He slipped the ring on her finger, a gorgeous rare black diamond surrounded in a circle of smaller white moon-crystals, set into a delicate red-gold band.

He stood and swung her around in a circle, before setting he back on her feet and embracing her tiny body, folding his arms protectively over the one thing he would never be without, ever again.

In the split second before he leaned to kiss her, his lips consuming hers with a passionate intensity that would take her breath away, she had time to think one more thing:

In life, there are no "Happily Ever After's"; there are no Happy Endings, because nothing ever truly ends.

This?

This was a beginning.


End file.
